Hostage
by proflig8
Summary: A leak in the Normandy's tank leads to agents of the Reapers taking Joker and Shepard. In an attempt to escape, valuable technology is found that could be the end of the ancient machine race. fShep/Joker, spoilers for ME1&2.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: **__This entire story originates from a role-play between me and a great partner. Because of this, not all credit is due to me. I just had to share this. I'm so excited with its end result! The fanfic will be considerably long, exciting, and include all of the characters._

_Thanks for taking the time to read!_

* * *

The Shrike Abyssal. Xe Cha. It was an awfully quiet place, only four planets located in the system aside from the Mass Relay and fuel deposit. The _Normandy_ couldn't just run on their precious elements, however, forcing them to stop somewhere to get more fuel. The commander could have _sworn _that they were at fifty percent almost ten hours ago. EDI had informed her of this, and EDI was never wrong. At least, that's what she had come to trust.

"A gas leak, maybe?" she mused, leaning against the black leather of Miranda's guest seat.

Her XO laced her fingers together and thought nothing of the stop—sure, they didn't run out this fast most of the time, but there could be all sorts of minor reasons for that.

"Perhaps EDI and Joker were messing around again in the cockpit, trying to see who could fly the fastest without anybody knowing, or something like that," the Aussie suggested, a smirk tugging at her lips. "I'm sure if there was any damage to the deposits, we would have heard from engineering." A buzz sounded from Miranda's terminal; there was an urgent message from—who else?—the blasted lower deck. Soundlessly, she opened the message, turned to the commander, and then said, "Well, that's settled, then. We'll get patched up at the port. Tali says that she can fix it easily, but she's not sure of the cause."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "So I was right?"

"Yes, not very contrary to the normal."

The commander nodded in farewell and stood up. "Fuel reserve better not be emptying out any damned element zero," she murmured with a shake of her head. "It takes to long to find it. I can't handle much of the 'launching probe' chime for very long."

Her second in command merely gave her a smile and a wave for an adieu.

At the nearest EDI terminal, she brought up the blue orb and asked, "How long till we reach the port?"

"ETA four minutes," the AI replied. "With the rapidly decreasing fuel in the system, we might run out of platinum."

"The element zero …?"

"Will be safe."

In relief, she nodded. "Thank you, EDI. I'll head up to Joker and see what's going on. Maybe he knows something about what happened." She would have just asked EDI herself, but she focused more on human error than computer error. The former was more common, after all, and even though her pilot rarely had a blunder, he _did_ happen to be the cause of her death … That, of course, wasn't a big deal anymore, however. She liked to think of it as a 'remember that one time?' type of deal. Guilty as he might feel, or not, it was in the past. As for the leak, it could have been anything. An overlooked breach when the ship was being repaired? There were so many other things to deal with, something so simple as a metal tank might have seemed rather … insignificant—compared to anything else, that is.

Jeff studied the readouts on the pale orange holo-monitor in front of him dubiously as he tapped a finger against the controls, determined to prove to himself that there was a bug in the system so he could blame this whole screw up on EDI. There was absolutely no way he could miss something as basic as a leak or weak tank in his pre-flight check, those were beginner's mistakes and he never made those. Even as a beginner. Privately, he vowed to kick his own ass if this turned out to be the by-product of an abnormal flaw in his attentiveness—even if he broke a leg in the process.

The faint metallic echo of footsteps approaching from the bridge alerted him to his nearing company and Jeff let his hand drop from the monitor to a cozier spot against the arm rest of his chair. He craned his neck to glance over his shoulder and identify who it was prowling behind him. It was a crying shame, but he never felt entirely safe on-board since Shepard went out and got a nice collection of trained killers with varying degrees of sanity left in them.

Per usual, the cockpit was quiet. "Everything going well up here? Things aren't doing so hot for the _Normandy_. She's running a little dry." Arms crossed, she leaned noncommittally against one of the nonoperational holo-monitor stations. "It shouldn't be a problem, 'long as you get us up there ASAP." In the distance from the side window, she could see the station not too far away, bright lights drawing attention from the void of black velvet.

"Commander," he acknowledged before returning his attention back on the display of the _Normandy_'s controls to make a few adjustments in their flight pattern. He impenitently participated in the conversation she started, which he knew was a polite way of asking what the hell was going on. "Getting to the station's not a problem. We'll be there in _less_ than four minutes," he threw EDI's station a look as he dared to test her calculation of his skills. He couldn't help himself. What sounded like an accurate estimate to others was an irresistible but unspoken challenge to him. This was never truer than when EDI considered him to be so predictable.

Shepard didn't have an issue with Joker's fretting. She knew how he could get over things like this; it wasn't hard to believe that he was getting paranoid about making a mistake. A perfectionist in the sense where he only flaunts it to the people that matter, such as his commanders or bosses.

EDI at first did not respond to Joker's stress on _less than four minutes_; however, in Shepard's peripheral vision, she saw the blue orb glitch slightly in what almost looked like slight irritation. It was the kind of that a single mother would get after her child interrupted her first _good_ date in a while.

"The problem is how it happened. There's no way I missed something like this. It just came out of nowhere. Then again, we do have a ship full of crazies. Maybe someone decided to use the gas tank as target practice." He spared a glimpse from his work to look back at Shepard, lowering his tone a few octaves so as to better contain his opinion. "Don't say anything, but my money is on Jack. She would find that funny, right?"

The commander's eyebrow slowly rose, but she still rested against the absent holo-monitor. "Jack? You haven't given her one chance to see what she's really like, have you?" she asked, disappointment flooding her tones. "Actually, she's still violent and scary once you get to know her," she corrected quickly. "But she also knows her place _and_ has been living down there for ages. Unless it was by accident, I don't see how she'd damage the tank and expect to survive the outcome. Even if she escaped at the port, where the hell would she go?"

Despite how often he praised the leather in that seat, it just didn't look comfortable to her. The thought always entered her mind, what with it leaning back (she preferred straight-up), the general hard-outside of the chair itself, the shape, and he either had to turn the entire damn thing around or move his neck in strange positions just to take a look at somebody. At least it was a change from the old _Normandy_; if she remembered correctly, the pilot didn't even make eye contact with anybody—not Shepard, at least. She had always wondered if she was doing something wrong, but now that they were more familiar and—hell, maybe she was aiming to high—_friends_, he didn't seem as stiff all the time.

With fourteen seconds left to spare on EDI's four minute prediction, Jeff dexterously slid the Normandy into the port of lonely Xe Cha's fuel depot. "Are you logging time of arrival, EDI?" Jeff flaunted his accomplishment with standard protocol and a smug grin stretched victoriously over his lips.

Now, Shepard wasn't counting the minutes, but she could tell by that devilish smirk on Joker's face that they successfully reached the port in less time than EDI anticipated. The commander absently wondered if they had saved at least a _little _bit of platinum. It's not hard to find, but …

"Yes, Jeff; arrival noted." Her voice was eerily calm. Shepard wondered how hard she worked to keep it that way.

The delighted grin on Jeff's face grew a fraction longer, threatening to quickly tire the muscles in his cheeks, when EDI acknowledged his request. In spite of the aberrant amount of harmony in her voice he knew he had pushed her buttons and thereby won this round. Certainly that meant he would need to be on guard for when the AI exacted her revenge but right now there was no harm done by basking in the glow of success.

She firmly pressed her hand on Joker's shoulder in a congratulatory pat and said, "Knew you could do it. We'll see what's up when we get off. That means you'll need to check it out with Tali."

Nimble fingers worked diligently at the keys of the holo-display closest to him as he did some last minute adjustments to the _Normandy_'s systems to accommodate her to the port and log his flight time. The weight of Shepard's hand on his shoulder summoned a short look from Jeff as she praised him, which he supposed was worth some bragging right. It was not everyday one got thanked by the galaxy's most celebrated heroine but it did absolutely nothing to humble him. "Is there something you think I can't do? Because I'm on a roll about disproving that kind of thing lately."

She brushed past Joker's comment. Going for the main comm, she lifted it up and pressed the button on the side, saying, "We've reached a fuel port; normally we're here for fifteen minutes or so, but we've got a minor problem. I suggest that you get yourselves some fresh air and move around outside for a little while."

Jeff fell silent and finished his adjustments as Shepard gave the call to the rest of the crew and informed them about their extended stay on the fuel port. He peeked past the edge of his chair to the airlock where he heard the engineering team beginning to gather and gave them a nod. On his command, the automatic doors hissed as they spread apart, first allowing passage into the decontamination chamber before the _Normandy_ relinquished them to the port docks.

Tali, Ken, and Gabby were already waiting near the airlock for Joker. The two lower-tier engineers saluted while Tali nodded, presumably smiling under the mask. Shepard made her way out and sighed in contentment when she stepped on the station.

Joker casually spun his seat around and braced his hands against the armrests to push himself up and out of his chair, easing weight on his legs as he stood. It was an easier feat now than it used to be, courtesy of Cerberus' medical care, although he was still far from stable.

"A minor problem? So does that mean we have only half the chance of dying today?" The flanging effect in the speaker's voice told Jeff that it was Garrus who had stepped out of the elevator and made his way halfway up the bridge in answer to Shepard's announcement.

"Unless you light a match or piss off wrong person you might not have any chance of death at all," Joker quipped back in response, although he could not blame the turian for his pessimistic assumptions. Problems aboard the _Normandy_—even small ones—were usually not good for one's life expectancy. "Only a leak."

Quiet, breezy, and still—unlike that crazy-pit Shepard liked to call home. Wouldn't change it for the galaxy, though.

She went around to the lower-left side of the ship and crawled in the small amount of space to take a quick look. She was specialized in engineering as well, but not exactly the technical-repair things. Sending out energy drones and blasts of incineration was more of her thing.

"I don't see anything," she muttered, a deep frown plastered on her face. Silently, she felt around on the cool surface and could find no breach. Pulling away to sit in a crouch, she checked her gloved fingers and found no trace of fuel.

The helmsman left Garrus in charge of repeating the same explanation to the rest of the crew who where undoubtedly making their way up now. He hobbled his way into the decontamination chamber before stepping out onto the station. Leaving the ship, or even just the cockpit, was a rarity for him, but he wished to see the extent of the mysterious tank damage himself.

His restricted walk carried him slowly alongside the _Normandy_'s sleek body towards the back of ship where the tanks were housed. He came to stop and braced against the cool metal when he spied the familiar blue glow of Shepard's armor illuminating from under the ship's belly. He decided to let the commander act as his eyes since he had really not been looking forward to crouching under it for an inspection of his own. "How bad is she, Commander?"

Still crouching, she shook her head at Joker's query and bit her lip momentarily. "She's … well, perfect. As far as I can tell, there's been no damage whatsoever," she answered, confusion dancing in her tone. Bringing up her omni-tool flashlight, she crouched under again, this time on her back, and balanced carefully (as there was nothing supporting her waist up). "Make sure I don't fall."

Jeff narrowed his eyes skeptically as Shepard reported the apparently stellar condition of the tanks. He tried to imagine what else could possibly be wrong, but nothing came to him. It had to be reserves. When ordered to do so, he leaned forward and grabbed Shepard's shins to offer a better sense of stabilization. Not that he would have been able to do anything if she _did_ fall; he would go right in line behind her. He was not about to kid himself and think that his legs would have supported the sudden drag of weight.

Alas, when Shepard gave an order, he made it a priority to follow. Everyone did. That sense of loyalty did not entirely wipe out his concerns, he'd already gotten Shepard killed once, so it was a relief when he saw Jacob rounding the side of the Normandy and striding towards them.

With the added light, it was a bit easier to see, but the smoothness still remained. There were a few curious indents that caught her attention, however, and Shepard narrowed her eyes at them and lifted her body up a little to get a better look. The heat of the recently-used metal was reflecting all around her, causing her to get dizzy—especially since she was in her heavy armor.

It looked like something was there. Something that wasn't _supposed_ to be there. It was gone now, obviously, but the remains were sloppy. She slid out from underneath carefully and wiped a bead of sweat from the side of her face.

Feeling the commander starting to back out, Jeff released her and paced back a couple of steps to give her room to slide back to the safety of the solid cold port docks.

A trail of oil was left behind on the skin, and she realized that the indent had traces of fuel, now covering her gloved hands. "Odd. Somebody must have planted a device of some sort. This wasn't an accidental error in your or EDI's flying, or miscalculated repairs in engineering," she informed him, "but I'm not sure what it is." To make things more clear, she frowned and said, "I think this is simply sabotage."

Tali joined the scene, talons laced together and shoulders hunched up slightly. "I … I think you might be correct, Shepard. At 0200 this morning, an unidentified object latched onto the _Normandy_. Gabby and I didn't think much of it; it could have just been remains of a floating-something. I should have checked immediately."

Shepard pursed her lips and then stood up. Carefully, she said, "The outcome didn't seem so bad. You can fix that indent quickly, I bet, too." She gave her friend a genuine look. "I don't expect you to jump at every little thing that happens to the ship. Don't worry. All I'm worried about is how it got there."

"You think that somebody did it?"

"Maybe."

Jacob came to a standstill next to Tali as he educated himself on the situation by listening to the banter between engineers. His expression shifted and set into one of cautious suspicion before he joined the conversation. "0200?" he clarified the time Tali gave. "Were we even in populated space at that time?"

"None that I can remember," Joker included himself before playing his role in comic relief. "But you know, spend eight plus hours a day staring at space and it all starts to look same."

"I've heard of Vorcha stealing fuel off of ships before, but never like this and in deep space. They aren't that smart." Jacob gently threw a hand up and out to gesture in the direction of the tanks. "You made just as many enemies as you did friends recently, Shepard. Maybe one of them has some damn impressive technology and decided to come step on your toes," Jacob suggested, then sent a distrusting glance around the station and searched for anyone or anything suspicious. "Or set you up."

Shepard put both fuel-coated hands on her hips. "But fuel? Honestly, they should have realized that we weren't very far from a port. Unless it's just a warning of what's to come."

"How does somebody scale the underside of the SR-2 and do something like that? The heat emissions and thrusters would make it nearly impossible," Tali explained, arms crossing.

The commander shook her head. "That's what worries me." She didn't want to say the word. She didn't want to say what she expected. She knew they were coming, but she didn't want to imagine that it would be so soon. _This could be a warning_, she thought solemnly. So she didn't say it. She wouldn't blow the idea off entirely, but she needed to hear the other team mates' opinions first. Jumping to the conclusion of the Reapers or the Collectors would only display her paranoia.

"So, should I just say it?" Joker offered apprehensively as he studied each of them carefully. Everyone was silently considering their highly possible and highly dangerous culprit, they had to be. "Collectors appear out of no where all the time." He tried his best to say it as candidly as possible but a sense of dread crept its way into his voice.

In spite of his dedicated search, Jacob never found anything in their surroundings to be particularly menacing or unusual. Hesitantly, he drew his focus back to his crew mates as Joker took the initiative to say what everyone else was already thinking. He had not even been the one to say it, but the suggestion that Collectors could be responsible left a bad taste in his mouth anyway. The biotic lifted both of his arms to cross and fold them against his chest apprehensively as he shared in the agreement. "They fit the bill, not quite the conclusion I wanted to jump to." A shrug tugged at his shoulders. "But that doesn't make it smart to ignore."

Shepard's eyes flit shut for a brief moment. "That seems most likely." The sweat on her brow prickled her skin, and the eeriness of how _unimportant_ this was compared to something huge that the evil race could do frankly freaked her the hell out. For now, they seemed to be content with messing her mind up.

"I was thinking about the Collectors too, although …" Tali trailed off, talons still fiddling with one another. She was there, in the vents, when she could get a glimpse at every dead (or worse, _alive_) human being in each and every one of those pods. Venturing through the high temperatures and crowded atmosphere didn't make it any less disturbing. "They're good at random," she agreed with Jacob, "but why something so little?"

"It's the question on everyone's mind, Tali," was Shepard's answer. "For the time being, I'm afraid that you're going to have to _start _jumping at everything." A sigh. "I'm sorry for this, but we can't afford anything happening to the crew. Not when there's an entire damn fleet of them out there."

The purple-clad quarian nodded. "I'll fix this up. It wont be very long, and refueling only takes a little while."

Simply nodding, the commander ordered, "Jacob, should the crew get curious while we're out here, would you mind telling them what's going on? They deserve to know. It isn't panic-worthy. Not yet, anyway," she added grimly. "In the mean time … excuse me."

"Of course, Shepard," Jacob complied after she had addressed him with the order. He dropped his arms and stood at attention then snapped off a clean military salute as she dismissed herself and made her way to the public restrooms. With the conversation at an end, he excused himself with a silent nod before beginning to head back inside the Normandy. Tali's band of engineers didn't need him uselessly standing around in the way while he tried to digest the possibility of Collectors draining their fuel. Collectors attacking them were one thing, he had even gotten used to that, but the simplicity of this almost juvenile assault was mind boggling.

She left the vicinity immediately. Images of that woman stationed on Horizon jumped into her mind. That gas searing her skin, molten pieces combining and dripping off. Her screams filled the dead silence of the collector base; it could have been Kelly, Chakwas, or anyone else on her crew—her _friends_ like Joker, Tali, Miranda, Jacob, Garrus … everyone.

Jeff watched Shepard's departure until the lights on the back of her armor twinkled one last time before vanishing from sight as she found sanctuary in the restroom. It was never a good sign when a filthy public bathroom, used by every recognizable species in the galaxy, became a safe haven. It was official, he decided with a barely contained grimace: the shit had hit the fan.

The stall flung open as Shepard leaned over the toilet. Nothing came, but she wanted to be prepared, what with the sickness she was feeling. The commander was damned paranoid. _This is a trap_, her brain repeated over and over again. _My ship and team is going to fall into some trap, laid by the Collectors and whomever else that could be affiliated with them._

Slowly backing away, she turned to the long mirror and stared at herself for a few seconds. She turned on the sink and washed off her gloves and the smudge on her face, also glad that the crystal, sharp cold water ushered the heat away. She felt ten times more refreshed without the sweat, took a deep breath, and stood leaning against the wall.

Proceeding as planned seemed like the best thing to do. Keep doing missions, keep asking for help against the Reaper threat.

"Take good care of her, Tali," Jeff said with a pat on the quarian's arm.

Tali bent down to the gas tank's level and glanced up at Joker. "I always do," she replied warmly. She had the utmost faith that she could do the repairs quickly and efficiently, just so they could get them up off the ground and back in more populated space. Stopping at the Citadel sounded nice to the alien woman, despite how much she didn't care for the place. However, talking to Anderson might help a bit with their suspected problem.

Joker then shuffled past her and left the _Normandy _in her capable hands. Of all the aliens Shepard had befriended, Tali was his favorite. She was the only one to date that didn't make him feel as though he was just one bad joke away from finding himself knocked out stone cold—or worse.

It took him a while to make his way down the extensive dock that lead to the center of the station where the bathrooms, snack machines, and a resting area were available to needy travelers. The whole set-up had always reminded him a little of the way rest stops used to work back on Earth, when people drove actual cars.

She exited the room and inserted a few creds into a drink machine for a water bottle. Barely being able to see her crew from here, she relaxed and let herself take a drink. Tali would fix the tank, Joker would fly the ship safely, Garrus would do calibrations, Jack would pace, Grunt would punch things, Thane and Samara would meditate, Miranda would do reports, and everyone would be doing what they normally do.

Monitoring the ship closely was all that she needed to do for now. Keeping them safe was the main objective.

By the time Jeff had reached the building that housed the public facilities Shepard had already steadied herself to a degree, but he knew the look of paranoia when he saw it. Even in someone as courageous as Shepard. "So, even the fearless Commander Shepard gets butterflies in her stomach?" he pried when he caught up to her.

Shepard's back straightened and her shoulders hunched at the sound of another pair of feet; she didn't know whether to be relieved or angry that it was Joker. She settled with relieved, deciding that it could have been somebody worse—like Miranda. She loved her XO to death, but she didn't ever stop advancing into the 'make sure you've got your head in the game' territory. After all, that whole mission with her and Orianna had been dropped like a hot plate right after they had talked about it merely once.

Back to business, Miranda would always say. They knew that they had to keep everything under check; if they didn't, who would?

She saw his black and white hat first, the signature item that everyone recognized, then his beard, and his obviously not black-clad, Miranda-curved body, contained her gracious sigh and put back on her 'commander posture'.

Rather than heckle her over it, or find time for a wise crack, Joker smiled amiably and slipped a few credits into the drink machine as well and summoned forth an orange soda, just to make it appear as though his venture down the docks had been for something other than to check up Shepard. She had face to keep in front of the crew. "Good to know you're still human."

At his remark, her eyes narrowed ever-so slightly. Her arms laced around her stomach casually, answering, "Not butterflies, just thinkin' about the crew is all. I just came down here to get a water." She held up the bottle as if to provide evidence to secure her alias in some court trial.

"Uh-huh," Jeff acceded when she held up the plastic bottle as testament to the fact that she was here only to quench her thirst, nothing else. That small moment of closing her eyes to steel herself against the idea that the Collectors could already clawing at their coattails was apparently to be completely dismissed.

Then she cracked, physically at first when the frown tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her features relaxed since there was no longer a reason to guard the truth from easing into her expression. "Ah, you're better than that." She felt guilty for making a bull excuse and supplied, "Human, yes. Have I ever convinced you otherwise?" she asked, idea sounding silly. "I gotta say, I've been called a robot by a few, asexual by others—even an AI in a human's body."

Watching him buy a drink for himself, she felt better knowing that he had come down here for his own intentions, and not just to check on her. That would be damn right _embarrassing_, and she would have none of it.

"Well, there are times I think you might be a little more than human, or at least a really impressive one. Maybe a superhero?" he said facetiously as he pulled the tab on the can and popped it open; the caffeine inside fizzled quietly in the momentary silence.

"A superhero?" she echoed, smile finally gracing her features. "Well, who knows what sort of additions and abilities Cerberus invested to put into me." Miranda _said_ that there were only a few cybernetics, but with her slightly altered appearance and stronger incinerate blasts, longer drones, and sturdier shields, she had her hesitations. Despite trusting the XO, she did _not_ trust the Illusive Man—or Wilson. She could have sworn, the first time when her consciousness returned, that he kept her awake to listen to the rapid-beeping and pumping of her heart, purposely trying to let her die.

Miranda knew it wasn't an accident, that's why she scolded the hell out of him. Shepard didn't know much after that, because she was out for whoever knows how long. The thought didn't bother her much anymore. _I'm here, aren't I? That's good enough._

Bringing the can to his lip, Joker took a long drink from it before lowering it again and lifting his forefinger off the can to point at her thoughtfully. "Technically, I could call you a zombie and not be wrong …" It was only halfway through his sentence that he realized what he was saying and the way his voice dropped out on him gave away his feelings of sudden self consciousness. "Uh, never mind."

His subtle complement had her grin increasing, but she faltered in a brief-second at his slip-up. He honestly didn't have to worry so much about that—and she would _try_ and try again to tell him so, she really would … She could understand his guilt. One day she'll get it through that stubborn head of his that he could stop fretting like that.

Joker's always been her motivational expert, probably without him even realizing it. When she went from second-in command to commanding officer, he told her that the crew was behind her one-hundred percent. He was that voice in her ear, she supposed; the one that calmed her the hell down.

"Anyway, don't think to hard about the crew, Commander. You have led them this far and it all worked out okay. Plus, if they think I'm going to let them get that close to the _Normandy_ again, they've got another thing coming."

"Good." She nodded. "You're right—and I like to hear that." Even if there was still a pessimistic bug crawling through her insides, she could say she felt a tad better.

One poorly thought out joke aside, he appeared to have been able to inspire a smile back onto the Commander's face, so he considered his job here done and done. Jeff placed the can back to his lips and threw back what was left of the beverage he had purchased, letting out a satisfied sigh once it was empty. It was then cast off as garbage and thrown into the metal trash bin compressed between the snack and drink machines.

"I don't know about you, but I have had enough of the outside world for today," Jeff concluded with a grin to dismiss himself. He was sorely starting to miss his comfortable spot tucked away in the _Normandy_'s cockpit. Cerberus could bite him, but, oh, how they had spoiled him with that chair.

Shepard couldn't say the same about the 'outside word,' for she really did enjoy getting out of the ship sometimes. Places like Illium, the Citadel, and even _Omega_ were nice to go to after being on the SR-2. Sure, it was big, but she still felt cramped with the crew and squad. She could understand that Joker wanted to get back in his seat, where he felt most comfortable, and do his thing.

"Later, Commander." He gave his accustomed farewell and a brief raise of his hand that served as a lazy wave, and then he turned to take his first few hobbled steps back towards the waiting ship.

She gave him a warm smile that he didn't see and said, "See ya, J—"

He only got as far as the corner of the building that housed the public lounge before he was stopped by bumping into something that had suddenly appeared there. A batarian stepped around the corner and directly into the helmsman's path, his lips stretched in a straight serious line. Jeff scowled and opened his mouth to speak, but his jaw hung loose and the hardened expression that crossed his face so quickly faded twice as fast when he felt the barrel of a pistol pressed against his rib cage. Jeff attempted to take a step back when he felt his body regain the ability to move after the initial shock passed but the batarian extended his arm an inch further and followed him with the pistol, pressing it even harder into his side.

"No sudden movements, Shepard. I have a quick trigger finger." Two of the Batarian's four eyes were on _Normandy_'s pilot; the others were busy sizing up the Commander while he calmly addressed her. He was adorned in jet black armor with no symbols or logos that advertised his loyalties to any known mercenary group, making it highly unlikely that this was an act of revenge or a hold up for all the credits they were worth. If it had not have been for the sabotage on the _Normandy,_ the attack would have seemed entirely unprovoked, but as of now it felt more like the pieces of a puzzle were coming together—or so Jeff hoped. They seemed like a less formidable foe than Collectors or Reapers. Although, thanks to the gun currently pointed at him, they were not entirely the push overs he wanted to make them out to be.

The smile faded so quickly, as if her muscles went through an ice age and melted into a frown after global warmth. Why was there a batarian right there? In the first split second, she imagined him harmless, but it was just too suspicious that he was fully armored. Not to mention they hadn't seen another ship docked here.

A gun. She saw the gun, and more importantly, she saw it up against her pilot's ribcage. Her blood simmered with anger—_nobody_ messes with her crew. Nobody. She'd put herself in danger a thousand times if it meant that they'd be safe, hence her prior (and still-lasting) worry for them. Once Joker leaned back a little, she constricted a swallow; suddenly, she had a bad feeling about who did the little fuel-hunt. The fact that he was in simple black, giving nothing away, frustrated the hell out of her, but she didn't exactly have much to do.

_A quick trigger finger_, she repeated in her head. Despair flooded her veins—what was more worth it? Beating the shit out of him and his cronies at the cost of Joker, or totally submitting and relinquishing her weapons? As an engineer, at least she'd still have her combat drone, incinerate, and a heavy shield, but without her recently-acquired sniper rifle, heavy pistol, and sub-machine gun, things might get a little complicated. Not to mention Joker couldn't fight CQC, didn't have abilities like incinerate, or even a gun.

A chorus of footsteps shuffled from building's corner behind the commander as four other grim-faced assailants left their hiding places and immediately trained their ready assault rifles on her. Two of them were also batarians, one was human, and the last an asari, all of them sporting the same undisclosed dark armor as the first.

The batarian currently threatening the life of Shepard's helmsman stood strategically with his back facing the _Normandy_ and his armed hand hidden from sight by his body, so that if any of the crew happened to notice the scene it would appear as though he was only there for a chat with them. "Release your weapons." He jabbed Joker with the gun, forcing him to instinctively lean back. "I think you know what happens if you refuse."

"Commander?" Jeff turned his head slowly until he could just made out Shepard in his peripheral vision, urging with widened green eyes for her to just take a shot at the guy. He knew she could do it, and take out the goons behind her before these guys even knew what happened to them. In spite of his trust he felt his heart hammer against his chest when he looked back to the tensing batarian's hand to see one finger just barely depressing the trigger in anticipation.

She bit her lip. Joker's widened, worried eyes pierced through her like a bullet itself. _I can't_, she wanted to say. Because, jeez, that finger on the trigger was too twitchy for her liking. With the three around her, too, it would just be bad news. What if they had reinforcements watching the rest of her crew? Not that they couldn't handle themselves, but …

"I won't repeat myself, Shepard," the aggressor informed gruffly. A blink passed in a wave over his face as each eye fluttered individually, taking turns to watch Shepard carefully for any signs of rebellion. "Hands out to your side so we can relieve you of your guns," the alien ordered.

A trickle of precipitation from her water bottle made its way around her fingers and dropped onto the floor; she slowly and cautiously dropped it in a garbage can. Her arms then went to her sides, complying with mix of stubborn, sad, and pissed expression. "Dammit."

She was Commander fucking Shepard. They'd get out of this—she'd make sure of it.

A satisfied hum rumbled roughly through the batarian's vocal cords and Jeff's beating heart plumped to his stomach in a defeated response. He could hear Shepard's trash hit the bin and the low hiss in her voice as she reluctantly complied with her orders.

"Great," he muttered, starting to follow her lead and raise his arms into the air submissively. He did not like being the only thing that kept Shepard from kicking their asses; in fact he hated that once again he was becoming a liability.

"Arms down, human," the batarian barked when Jokers hands rose. "Don't draw attention."

Jeff complied quickly and dropped his arms back down to his side, peering over the alien's shoulder to the Normandy where help was so close yet so uselessly far away.

That's right, he thought to himself. They did not want to draw the attention of Commander Shepard's famously lethal crew.

The anguish was written all over Joker's face, but Shepard could almost _feel_ it emanating off of the helmsman. In these types of situations, she figured that she would be able to handle herself and whomever happened to be with her—but then she realized that she had never _been_ in said position. Her guard had always been up. Her team was always near. Even on the Blitz, she had her team with her. On the Lazarus station, Miranda was talking to her through the microphone. At the very least, she had Joker with her. It was a positive and negative factor: positive because she damn well wouldn't want to be alone; negative because they were both pretty much useless at this point.

She wanted to snap at the batarian for treating her friend like that, but consequences would stab her in the back so very quickly. In fact, she'd rather ram their faces through the drink machine and watch as the electricity _fried them to death_ … it was a crying shame that she couldn't. She couldn't do anything.

Attention should be drawn, she thought. Maybe somebody would wander over here on their own. There was a large chance that they wouldn't, however, seeing as there were bathrooms on the ship and food and drinks in the mess hall.

The group was dedicated to the effort of secrecy and was doing an adequately good job of keeping this whole thing quiet, but the forceful meeting had not gone without drawing some notice.

Avian-like eyes narrowed at the scene in the distance as Garrus stopped halfway down the loading ramp extending from the ship's airlock. It was a normal scene—Shepard drew fans from all around the galaxy, and even Joker earned himself some recognition after piloting through the Omega 4 Relay. But from a batarian? He did not fancy himself as a racist, but he _was_ a realist, and there were incredibly few batarians that could even stand the sight of humans—yet alone approach one willingly for a chat.

Even with the extended vision his visor provided, he could not find clarity in the scene. It was unusual, but there was nothing he pick out as necessarily precarious. Unfortunately for Shepard and Joker, the group with their assault rifles drawing a bead on the commander was standing just out of sight, and the batrian's foresight to stand with his back to the Normandy was working flawlessly for him.

It was just one harmless looking guy, as far as the turian could tell, and even if he tried to cause trouble, Shepard could easily handle a solitary heckler; but _something_ was still off about it.

"Miranda?" He hailed the XO through his radio and then reported, "Shepard and Joker have been approached by a single batarian. Nothing appears to be wrong … but something just doesn't feel right."

Miranda, still in her office, raised an eyebrow at the message over her comm link. "A batarian? If there's only one, don't you think she'd be all right?" she drawled. "I know she left the ship armored and secure. It's hard to imagine that she's friendly with a batarian, but maybe they were acquainted at one point?" She raised her slim shoulders and brushed a piece of dark brown hair behind her ear. "If you've got such a bad feeling, then go check it out yourself. It wont be my ass on the line if you're interrupting something important." Her tone was joking and soft, but had that hint of 'she probably _would_ do that' if the situation was personal.

Unaware of their possibly growing audience, the batarian reached out and placed a heavy hand on Joker's shoulder to walk him backwards until the pilot stood a mere three feet away from Shepard (and just out of Garrus' sight).

When Joker got closer, Shepard imagined herself grabbing the pilot, twisting the gun that was held up to him, and sending out an incineration blast towards the other three so they could _make a run for it_, but … he kept doing it. At any sudden movement, he'd shoot. She couldn't risk anything like that.

Her teeth ground together, and her fists clenched and unclenched. Colorful words ran through her mind, along with all the revenge ideas.

He made sure to keep his finger visibly tense on the trigger to discourage the commander from trying any last minute heroics. Another controlled blink fell down his face while he eyeballed the asari in their group. "Do it."

In silent compliance, the asari slipped one hand out from under her assault rifle and lifted it into the air, fingers spread as wide as the joints would allow. A blue glow lit like a flame around her extended hand as the biotic activated her pull ability and skillfully plucked all of Shepard's weapons from her body, drawing them back to herself and over her head before allowing the collection to fall in a heap behind her.

Those were her babies falling to the ground, those weapons. So carelessly strewn down on the metal flooring; Shepard's spent hours cleaning those things—especially the Viper sniper rifle. Punching the asari sounded like such a bad idea, but _so_ good …

Hearing the guns clatter to the ground—away from Shepard's skillful hands—made the tempo of Jeff's pounding heart quicken. He could hear the distant sound of blood flow humming in his ears as his blood pressure sky rocketed. The sound was growing steadily louder and—closer? Jeff's head snapped up a mere centimeter in sudden recognition. That wasn't him, that was the rumble of a stealth class ship's engine. The low ominous growl was approaching them at a steady crawl from behind, as though it had been laying in wait for this moment like a predator stalking its prey. He had not seen any other ships coming in nor had EDI mentioned detection one. He knew there was another port on the opposite side of the one they had landed in but nothing had been there. They were supposed to have been all alone, just like they had been in deep space when their fuel tank was penetrated. He was no Sherlock, but those clues added up fairly effortlessly.

"You are making this real easy on yourself, Shepard," the batarian complimented as he lifted his unarmed hand off of Jeff's shoulder and motioned with his index and middle fingers for the group to close in; all four obeyed without question.

"Easy for us, huh? Does that mean our death will be quick and pain—_agh__!_" Her voice fluttered in slight hurt when she felt the jolt of her shields getting shocked away.

One of the other Batarians positioned himself closely behind the commander and looked expectantly to their leader. A silent nod passed between the like species, and the individual behind her brought up his omni-tool to overload Shepard's shields.

"Bastard," she hissed. They were slowly depleting everything that would give her and Joker a fighting chance.

She should have seen it all coming. The stealth ship hovering around them, the tank, the leak, the depot in deep space, the silence …

"A smart move, Commander," the first batarian concluded before lifting his chin in a silent gesture to the only human in their party. The human stepped up to take the place of the bararian who was still fiddling with his omni-tool and laced his fingers more tightly around the assault rifle in his hands. In one quick motion he brought up the butt of the gun and jammed it as hard as he could towards the back of the Commander's head.

There was no time to dwell. Darkness engulfed the commanding officer as she slid to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

"Shepard!" Jeff twisted his head around to watch helplessly as the commander collapsed onto the floor of the space port.

The batarian's lips pulled back in a crooked grin that flashed his pointed and unpleasantly dirty teeth. He was quite proud of the accomplishment: he had given the orders that took down the legendary Shepard without so much as a drop of blood paid for it. Never minding the dirty tricks he had to pull to do so.

"You son of a bitch!" Jeff pried his eyes off of Shepard as he glowered back at the alien, who still pressing his pistol hard into his side. He was on his own now that Shepard had been unfairly put down and there was agonizingly little he could do about it.

"Load her onto the ship," the batarian ordered, apparently deaf to Jeff's acidic words. He looked up from the unconscious commander to the helmsman and pushed him back with the muzzle of his gun right into the arms of the asari, "Take him too."

"Sir?" the asari asked with hints of confusion and slight skepticism hidden under a professional tone. She understood that a witness to the abduction could not be left behind but she had not expected to be burdened with taking two people aboard. "Why not just kill him?"

"And leave a body behind?" The batarian inquired, his appeased grin all but draining from his gruesome features as he stared her down with all four eyes. "Are you aware of how much can be learned by studying a corpse? Add a high-ranking ex-Cerberus agent into the equation and you may as well shoot yourself now and spare them the trouble."

"You're welcome to take that out anytime. I would. It will be a lot less painful than what's going to happen to you," Joker snapped off through tightly grit teeth as he rolled his shoulders and tried desperately to free himself from the asari's grasp since he no longer had a gun pointed directly at him.

"Yes, sir," the asari replied apologetically, apparently sold by the batarians words or perhaps his dark glare. Once more Jeff's retaliations went neglected. One of her hands clamped down on his forearm and the other armed itself with a pistol identical to the one that had previously been buried in his ribs.

"Oh, you've _got_ to be shitting me," he complained and eased as the similar gun pressed into the back of his head.

The human that had taken the honor of knocking Shepard out bent down and grabbed hold of the armored woman then lifted her onto his shoulder with a grunt of effort. For a moment he staggered under the weight before he found his center of gravity and steadied himself, then began to lead the way to the awaiting stealth ship. The asari tapped the pistol mindfully against the back of Jeff's head, making him follow reluctantly.

The waiting ship already had its airlock open in anticipation. As he was walked aboard the helmsman mentally scrambled to formulate a plan of escape but no sense of inspiration ever came, only a growing sense of dread. The inside of the ship turned his dread into panic once the airlock had shut behind them. He could see that they had been escorted into the lower levels which he had anticipated to be used for storage; and it was, just not the kind of storage he had in mind. The entire floor was empty but the walls were lined with small one person cells.

Three of the cell's four walls were crafted from the same metal as the interior of the ship. The forth wall (which also acted as the door) was built with the same durable transparent material used in star-ship windows. That was enough to startle anyone, but what really shook him, and even momentarily made him forget that he was being held captive, were the collector pods stored in a few of the used cells.

"What the hell?" he asked as he stared at the hauntingly familiar pods behind the glass.

The sound of an automatic door sliding closed brought his attention back to the here and now as he looked over to see that Shepard had been laid on the ground of her cell and locked inside. The asari did not sympathize with his shock and jerked him violently to the side to toss him into the cell alongside Shepard's. He caught himself on the back wall and turned his head in time to watch as the heavy glass entrance close up behind him and robbed him of any chance he had at freedom.

* * *

Garrus decided to run the risk of pissing Shepard off and go with his gut after his conversation with the _Normandy_'s XO. He finished his decent down the ramp and made his way towards the vending machines pressed against the building's back wall; the turian had expected to catch sight of them as he neared, but when nothing ever fell into sight he grew all the more vigilant.

He stopped in front of the machines when he found them to be the only things there. His eyes darted towards the bathrooms, just about to suspect them when the engine on the hidden ship roared from the port around the corner. Garrus reflexively took cover against the nearest wall and peered around it cautiously as the ship took shape before his eyes. Lifting sluggishly from the dock side the suspicious ship swung itself around and rumbled away from the station, and once it was far enough out, it tore away into deep space.

Concerned, Garrus leaned away from the wall and did a quick check of the bathrooms and the inside of the lounge the building housed, finding them all to be as empty as Xe Cha itself was on a galactic scale. He hastily brought up communications with the _Normandy_ again and relayed the information in a condensed manner. "A ship just left the port and I can find neither Shepard nor Joker. Please, someone tell me I missed them and they are back on board?"

Instead of a human answering Garrus' calls, it was the AI, EDI.

"They are not," she stated simply and grimly.

Garrus strained to cope with the momentary silence on the other end of the radio; EDI's calming voice finally came through, but rather than offering the comfort he had been seeking, it made his un-bandaged mandible flare as he let out an exasperated sigh.

"I was afraid you would say that," he conceded. "I've checked the bathrooms and the lounge, no signs of them here."

He stepped out of the building and half-jogged his way towards the side of the port opposite of the _Normandy_'s position. "I'll take a look around on the far side," was the last thing he said before he began to scrutinize the dock where the ship had been just moments before.

Miranda, overhearing the words, jolted out of her seat and stood hesitantly. _Don't panic,_ she told herself. _They're probably still in the port._ And yet, she couldn't help but keep the dread out of her voice when she ordered the few people still on the station to look around. "Samara, Grunt, take a quick look around to see if Shepard and Joker are somewhere still here. Gabriella, Kenneth, Tali—are those repairs almost done?"

"Just about," Tali answered. Her talons worked more quickly, now, the XO's voice putting her on edge. Gabby and Ken started to make their way back on board, just to see what was going on. The quarian didn't need them anyhow, as she wasn't lying about the little fix she had to work on.

Smoothing out the new metal surface one more time with a substance and a rough rag, she secured the plating tightly with a few bolts.

"Unfortunately, we've still got to refill … we're still out of fuel."

"The commander is missing?" came Samara's voice on the other end. Regardless, though, she broke apart from the krogan and started to circle slowly around the Normandy. Every visible nook and cranny was empty, as far as the Justicar could tell. As the oldest and the most mature, she stayed incredibly calm through her search.

Grunt turned his head and to listen as he was given an order, he found it difficult to comply with it not being Shepard's voice in his ear but for her sake he allowed Miranda to direct him. Heavy lumbering steps carried him in the opposite direction of the Justicar as he rounded the other side of the Normandy.

Miranda didn't ever really have to take charge unless Shepard didn't take her on a mission (even then, nothing big happened when they were gone); so perhaps she was a bit neurotic. Samara could understand, but she made sure to subtly console the other woman.

The genetically modified woman did not answer the asari's query immediately. "I don't know."

"Mr. Vakarian was right about another ship leaving," EDI began. "If Shepard and Jeff happen to be on that ship, we will not be able to go after them immediately. The refueling takes, at minimum, ten minutes. It will be incredibly difficult to track them down." The bluntness was unnerving and disconcerting. Miranda sighed and pressed two slim fingers against her temple.

She straightened up and assumed the role of the commander, just as she was supposed to. Voice strong, she said, "If anybody can find them, it's you, EDI. In the mean time, keep looking for them. We don't want to get worked up for nothing. Hell, for all we know, they could have been on the other side of the port, admiring the other ship and getting all excited about its parts. They're both into that kind of thing." _Try to keep it lighthearted, Miranda._ "They could be on their way back right now."

"Shepard isn't here," Grunt's rumbling baritone voice joined in over the busy radio, causing a momentary crackle of static as it struggled to capture his tones. He paused and turned his massive head left and right as he looked up and down the docks for any signs of them but was unsurprised when he saw nothing. "What does it matter even if they were on that ship? Whoever took them are the ones who should be worried. Hell, they even stole someone who can fly their ship back after she kills them all." He dismissed the whole thing with a wave of his clawed hand out in front of him.

Like Samara, he was one of the few that did not seemed outwardly concerned. He liked Shepard and would gladly die fighting for her or fighting against her, but if he doubted her abilities so much as to think she was currently in more danger than she could handle he would not have considered her as his battle master.

Grunt's words were only half-reassuring. Miranda leaned back in her chair and bit her lip, thinking deeply about the situation. As long as she had EDI track the trail …

"I have pinpointed the location of the ship," the AI chimed. "As long as it stays in this nebula, once we are back into the air, it will be much easier for the _Normandy_ to catch up with it." Now _that_ was news that the XO could actually relax upon hearing. It was a simple rescue mission. Invade ship, kill the bastards that decided to take the wrong people with a very dangerous, highly trained crew, take commander and pilot … She sat forward again.

Yes, it shouldn't be too hard.

Samara moved back with Grunt towards the ship with the same graceful elegance that she always held. "You may be correct, Grunt; unfortunately, if that were the case, I don't believe Shepard would have gotten herself taken in the first place. I do not think we are dealing with simpletons. Our commander can handle more than I've ever seen a person do."

Grunt, well, grunted as Samara shared her two cents. For some unknown reason, probably a pet peeve or a clash of opposite personalities, her grace had always secretly gotten under his scales. At the same time he also admired the raw power of the ancient Justicar. So he always found himself walking a thin line when in the asari's company.

"Maybe," he conceded after they had rejoined the rest of the crew aboard the _Normandy. __"B_ut once you piss Shepard off you're as good as dead," he growled defensively (although, not angrily. His voice just happened to make him sound that way). He was simply unwilling to believe there was anything in the galaxy that could keep their Commander restrained for long. Even death itself had lost its grasp on her.

Samara's eyes wandered over Grunt's expression. His undying loyalty and faith towards Shepard would be quite inspiring if she did not feel the same. However, she did, and needed no convincing that the commander would somehow make it out alive. It's what she always succeeded in doing.

"A thought-out plan … if that's all it took," Miranda muttered quietly, running a hand through the roots of her hair.

Tali dusted off her suit and grabbed her materials so she could board the ship once more. Z

"Once Mr. Vakarian takes his place on the ship, we can leave in a few moments," EDI said. Miranda perked up a little and got out of her office; she had a feeling that it would be best to stay up in the cockpit with EDI.

The crew didn't seem too affected by what was going on. There were a few murmurs of confusion, but other than that, they stayed focused and did their jobs. Good, Miranda thought, satisfied, heels clicking against the surface of the walkway. She did not want to sit in Joker's seat—it just felt wrong. _Nobody_ but Joker sat in that seat, not even the commander. The woman settled with hovering next to EDI's terminal.

Minutes later the airlock released a hiss and opened to reveal Garrus, who arrived just on time. The doors closed and locked back in place behind him. Regretfully, he shook his head and stared blindly forward at one of the empty holo-displays in the cockpit. "I knew something was wrong."

Samara followed the small group up into the cockpit and followed along with them. "It is good that you reported as soon as you did," the asari consoled briefly. "Tali would have been slower in repairs, and we wouldn't be off the ground as soon as possible."

"Cry about it later," Grunt advised brutishly, twisting his head around to look in Miranda's direction. "So, what do we do now?"

Miranda crossed her arms over her chest and kept on a hardened expression. In answer, she said, "I don't want to go crying to Anderson."

"It's like when we were tracking down Saren," Tali put in, taking place next to Garrus. She looked up at him. "We couldn't send an entire fleet to find him; it was a lot easier with just the _Normandy_. Looking for clues helped us, but … were we left with anything?"

"EDI, did you manage to collect anything from your scan?" the XO asked, turning to the orb.

"I have identified the type of aircraft vehicle." The news was decent, to say the least. "And, if I am correct, there were signs of Collector life on board."

The air became a lot more tense. The whole cockpit seemed to turn to ice as EDI reported the detectable presence of Collector life aboard the ship. For a few moments the words hung in the air like foreboding storm clouds. Tali broke the lull with her pledge of dedication and no one argued otherwise. Shepard had all of their undying loyalty.

Tali did not appear outwardly fazed. "Shepard saved the crew when Collectors kidnapped them—we shouldn't hesitate to do the same."

"I don't think anybody was hesitating, Tali," Miranda said. "It's just … if they've got Collectors, what else could be on there?" She shook her head and pushed herself off of one of the monitors. "EDI, take us in the air. I need to go have a debriefing with the Illusive Man. He may know something that can help us. He's going to be the last person that wants Shepard in trouble." Not after spending all that money on her.

Grunt's eyes flashed as Miranda spoke, he took a heavy step that echoed through the cockpit and positioned himself in the center of the bridge to block her path. "Shepard doesn't trust the Illusive man," he reminded her sternly, still have difficulty adjusting to following the biotic's orders. "Neither do I. Anyone who sits on his ass and makes other do his fighting for him is a coward."

"I'm no more fond of him than you are, Grunt, but he has the resources to find out everything we need to know about the ship that took them. The more time we spend arguing over it the further away they get," Garrus tried to convince the young contentious krogan, but the acidic glare he got in return told him that he had failed.

"I'll rip the rest of your face off before I let you preach to me, turian."

Shepard had only been gone for so long and already the first problem was coming to light. Everyone was willing to put aside their differences and work harmoniously together under Shepard's guidance. Her mere presence kept them all in line. Without her there to solidify their alliance, things were coming apart at the seams.

"It is understandable that you would wish you protect and live by Shepard's ideals," a raspy, almost gargled, voice addressed the krogan from behind impartially. "Consider it as this though before you speak, you are currently opposing the will of the person Shepard hand picked to act in her place in just such an event. Indirectly as it may be, you are opposing Shepard."

Grunt swung his massive frame around to regard Thane, who stood with his hands tucked behind his back. He curled his lip in frustration at the drell but stepped back to his place alongside Samara and granted Miranda passage wordlessly.

The XO came to a halt in front of the massive krogan. "Maybe he doesn't sit on his ass all day, as you say. Not many actually know about what he does," she defended. To compensate, she said, "But you could be right. Unfortunately, he's our only hope at the moment." And hell, she sure did agree with Shepard when she blew up that base. It was the right thing to do, whether or not her boss liked it. In fact, she barely felt that he _was_ her boss anymore—Shepard took his place a long time ago.

Samara took a large risk by laying one gentle hand on Grunt's massive shoulder. "All of you are very correct. Think about the best course of action; what else are we supposed to do? Perhaps it would be wise to speak to the Illusive Man. If not, I propose that you put forward an idea of your own."

"The last thing we need is to start a fight," Miranda said to the small crowd, although the words were mostly directed at the young krogan. "Just keep to yourselves if need be. Excuse me."

Her path unblocked, she proceeded to the other side of the galaxy map.

* * *

Jeff had lost track of time. He was more focused on other things than counting down the minutes, like trying his best to rouse Shepard in the cell next to him. He wasted a lot of time knocking and tapping as loudly as he dared against the wall between them but nothing ever got through; eventually, he accepted that Shepard would just have to wake on her own.

One small panic attack later and he had eased himself enough to take a seat on the floor of his cell. With his head leaned back against the cold metal wall and his legs stretched out in front of him, the rest of his time was spent in silence. The only time he really allowed himself to grow anxious was when he felt the familiar, but brief, draw of passing through a Mass Relay. Not everyone knew how to feel for such a thing as ships were usually designed to limit the affects that space travel had on the body, but he was just that damn good—if he did say so himself, and he did.

When Shepard came to, she felt the cool of the solid floor before the incredible pulsing of her head. Luckily, it wasn't a headache, but more so simple pain from the place where the rifle contacted her. She did not groan, simply reaching a tentative hand up to feel the damage. Not too bad, she assessed. Not yet, anyway.

"Joker!" she remembered, sitting up. Okay, that stung a little.

Her surroundings made everything clear. They had indeed been captured, and from what she could tell, she was locked away in some kind of cell. Wonderful. Terrific. If only she had been an infiltrator, she could try to pick the lock or something—if there even was one. For the moment, though, she had to talk to Joker. She had to know he was alright. A durable vent was somewhat close to the corner—that would work. If he was in the one next to her … she could imagine those bastards separating them. Her hands pressed against the floor, she crawled over to the side of the cell and called in a controlled voice, "Joker, you over there?"

_Please, please answer._

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the commander's voice echoed like metal next to his ear. He jolted away from the wall, looking at the vent next to him. He slid himself over until he was sitting in front the small opening and responded enthusiastically, "Commander, you're awake!" Stating the obvious was officially marked off his to-do list now.

"I don't know how long you've been out, but I can tell you we just passed through a Mass Relay a little while ago, which is great because, you know, those are such direct routes," he informed with dripping sarcasm.

Shepard found herself smiling at the sound (and she could kind of see him through the vent) of her pilot. Hopefully, he was all in tact, working just fine, not damaged in the least. His legs were probably hurting from sitting in that position. Aside from her head, she was alright. Physically, anyway, because she damn well didn't like their position.

"A Mass Relay, huh?" That made sense; it could have been what woke her up out of the deep slumber. Then, that dawning sensation overwhelmed her. "Oh. That isn't good at all."

It would be very unlikely that the ship would find them. Looks like they'd have to go back on their own … if they ever made it out. Even if they did, it'd be hard to get in contact with the _Normandy_. To do that, they'd have to take out everyone on board, which was pretty much on the 'suicide mission' tier for current objectives.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking too," Jeff agreed as Shepard steadily came to the realization of what their trip through a Mass Relay meant. He sat up a little more against the wall and looked away from the view across the room to focus back on the vent, which was easily a hundred times more inviting. It was truly amazing how much better he felt about all of this with Shepard awake again. Although they were far from safe, it was a considerable improvement.

Turning his head away from the vent he looked out through the transparent wall of his tiny prison at row of cells across from them, eyes eventually landing on one of the cells housing a collector pod. "At least we're faring better than they are. Check out the cell across from us, fifth one down from the left." He drew it to Shepard attention in the hope that she would be able to make more out of it than he could.

She moved away and followed his directions, looking where he desired. Her mouth fell open, and then she snapped it shut quickly. "Please, tell me that's not what I think it is."

Oh, but it was. She had a good enough view. She could even make out the contour lines of a human. It was the Horizon woman all over again. Shepard didn't know if she would be able to stomach the sight of a human-milkshake again. Thinking about it made her sick enough. There were plenty of pods, too.

"Well, they really _are_ what they look like, or our buddies with the guns have an interior designer with deeply rooted issues," he replied jovially when Shepard questioned the tangibility of the familiar nightmare across from them.

It was unfortunate that she couldn't laugh along with Joker's dry humor for once. Those pods were too much for the commander. She didn't want to call herself queasy, but _damn_ those things really got under her skin and struck all of the nerves that she didn't want it to.

_What if we're next?_ Shepard almost asked; but pessimism wasn't her thing.

"So, we're on a ship full of people working with the Collectors. There might be Collectors on board; they could be watching us right now. Why do you think they've got us locked up here, instead of outright killing us? They can't be luring the crew …" Shepard was nothing without her crew, and her crew was nothing without Shepard. It was a simple equation that most of the galaxy knew.

So … why?

He leaned his head back against the wall as he listened to the commander summed up the whole FUBAR situation and nodded along to the words. "That pretty much covers it." He sighed. "Although I haven't seen a collector. A guard comes back here to check on us every so often but its just that asari. The only reason I'm alive is because they didn't want to leave me behind as evidence … and probably so they can bargain with you." He added the last part irritably and then breezed past it. "As for you, who knows? Maybe you're worth more to the Collectors as a living being than a liquid."

Her face scrunched up at the idea of using Joker to bargain with her. It would _work_, and they knew that.

"More importantly, how the hell are we going to get out of here?" She was mostly talking to herself, but at this point, Joker was welcome to suggest his own method. Quietly, she raised up off of the ground and ventured to the glass window. Sure, it meant getting a better look at the pods, but if she could find something to use to get out …

He tensed a little against his wall and leaned up when she asked _him_ about an escape place. "Hey, whoa. That's your thing, not mine, Commander."

"Wait," she breathed. Bringing up her right arm, a slow smile spread across her face. The orange glow of her omni-tool greeted her as it usually did. "That means I can still use incinerate. Unfortunately, it'd cause one hell of a racket. One blast and we'll probably set off alarms …" Her recharge time wasn't as great as it should be; she settled for power over timing. She sure wished that she would have known that they would have been in this position a long time ago.

Jeff leaned down to peek up at her through the vent, witnessing her eureka moment with a growing smile of his own. "Well, it's not like they will just let us out of here if we wait patiently." His features fell to a less confident expression as he ran that plan through a mental simulation again, "But if we do set off an alarm, what then? There are more than just five of them aboard and your weapons are locked away in the cockpit." That he had overheard in conversation between a few of their kidnappers. Although, he purposely left out the part where heard them mentioning auctioning them off to make a quick buck.

He watched as Shepard lowered herself to the vent to discuss their plan of action in greater detail before they went about trying to follow any of their ideas.

"You were conscious when you were led in here, right?" Her head lolled to his direction. "How big is this place, do you think? If we're quick and quiet, and if there's places to hide throughout … we might just find a way off. That's only if we land sometime soon."

They _were_ just at a fuel depot, so who knows how long that could take?

"She's a little bigger than the Normandy, maybe 6 decks?" he guessed from what he had seen of the ship before being so rudely shoved inside. "We're on the last deck now. I don't know a thing about the decks above us," he admitted, but paused and creased his brow thoughtfully as he churned that reply over in his mind. "Wait, that's not entirely true. I could be wrong, but I think there might be smaller crafts one deck above us. I saw the hatches on the side of the ship when we were coming in. So that has to be a hangar."

He glanced at her through the vent, his eyes suddenly inspired but cautious.

"That doesn't mean there actually are any ships there. This is _supposed_ to be the cargo hold." He gestured with a tilt of his head around his cell. "Not exactly customary. Who knows if the hangar is. If it is occupied than, judging by the size of the hatches, we're talking about some quality ships. Small, but quality. Not just little shuttles."

Jeff eased back from the vent as he processed the mental image he had of the ship, wishing he had been more observant. "I don't know this model. So I'm not sure what the smaller ships would be like either but, eh-" A shrug lifted his shoulders, "As long as it flies, there's nothing I can't handle."

"A hangar?" Shepard echoed. "Good. You may be right about what's stored up there, though …" she murmured, analyzing the actions that they were going to have to take. "I have a feeling that we're going to have to stick to the vents or the air ducts. If we're lucky, we'll only be crawling around for one floor. And I'd never doubt that you could fly us out," she said with the biggest smile she could handle in their position. "

She remembered EDI's report after the Collectors boarded the _Normandy_. For Joker to safely move around, he himself had to do the same. So he could do it, but it probably wouldn't be very comfortable.

"Fantastic," Jeff groaned, closing his eyes in exasperation and slowly shaking his head at the thought of climbing through more ducts. At least it was only one floor this time, but he wasn't look forward to it. On the other side of the same coin, he was looking forward to becoming a collector stew even less so he brightened up quickly (or whatever it was their kidnappers planned on doing with them).

"That is, if you think there's another way," she supplied hopelessly, and she looked at him full-on from the vents, brief flickers of concern in her eyes.

"No, I agree with you. Going through the ducts is the best chance we're gonna get," he concurred. "I sure as hell can't keep up with you any other way."

Shepard found that pity inside her again—the kind that Joker probably hated. Everybody knew that he didn't like to be fussed over, but she couldn't help it sometimes. She simply felt bad about how _little_ she could do to make this easier for him.

Like he said, the air ducts were the only way to go. They would have to get there quickly, too-as soon as possible. She'd have to close and seal the thing once they were inside, also, because leaving traces of where they were hiding would be terrible. Heating up the vents, maybe freezing them to death, releasing a gas that would kill them slowly ...

Not very appealing.

Crawling on her hands and knees, Shepard ventured over to the front corner of the glass and took a look around. On the very left wall, there were large generators that had large, metal grating covering a vent. This was something familiar to her, as they were on most ships. They were easy enough to move around in—she knew this because she had to go through them several times, being an engineer checking things out on ships before the _Normandy_—as long as they were careful.

She looked back at the vent. "I'm going to use incinerate on the wall. It's strong enough to blast through both of ours and get to an open cell—if you're in the last one in this row. I can't see much of anything." The blasted walls obstructed her view, and the darkness wasn't helping either. But the faint glow of Collector pods was still daunting her …

"Stand as close to the back wall as possible," she ordered, bringing up her omni-tool. "I don't want you to accidentally get hit."

He leaned back from the vent when he lost his obstructed view of Shepard. He could hear her crawling carefully around her cell as she explored all of their options, looking for their best chance at getting out of this unscathed.

"No need to tell me twice," he confirmed when she reported back with her plans, the distant faint humming of an omni-tool telling him that she was wasting no time in preparing her assault.

Jeff climbed to his feet and paced back a few steps until his back pressed into the far wall of his cell securely. Anxiety was starting to build in the back of his mind. He attempted to shut the worried voice out by thinking encouragingly to himself, _I have Shepard with me. What could possibly go wrong? Okay, well, other than everything I already pointed out._

_Oh, forget it._

___Optimistic thoughts, Jane__, _Shepard thought.___ Do it for your friend._ "Alright," she simply said, igniting the incinerate through her omni-tool, that strong, familiar blast shooting through the both of their cells. Immediately, she dodged under the first and was incredibly relieved to see Joker in tip-top shape. Lucky for them, it worked.

Jeff braced himself for the coming blast, tensing his muscles, pushing his shoulders further against the wall. He was pleasantly surprised when the attack proved to much a little quieter than he had anticipated, but nothing less could be expected of Commander Shepard.

"We have to go," she ordered, already leading out the second hole. The explosion wasn't too loud, but it would be enough to attract attention from their gruesome captors.

"Right behind you," he said with relief, pushing himself off the wall to follow her orders and lead. Considering that Shepard wasn't rushing the generators he was able to keep pace with her sufficiently, much to his satisfaction, because the last thing he wanted to do was drag her down with him. He knew damn well she wouldn't let him fall behind, regardless of what that mean for her own safety.

Trusting Joker to follow, she made her way towards the generators. She eased herself behind it and used her omni-tool once more to start hacking through the orange hologram in front of her. She noted with great disturbance that it was frighteningly similar to the ones she had to unlock for Tali at the Collector base. Thanks to the fact that she had prior use with them, she had a good chance at successfully duplicating it once she and Joker were safely inside.

"There has been a breach in the cells! Don't let Shepard escape!" a voice boomed over the ship's intercom, the rage in the speaker's voice causing the microphone to buzz with static. Jeff caught the some colorful muttering over the speakers before the intercom died away. It was now or never.

_"_You know, it's starting to piss me off that no one cares if I escape. Once in a while I could at least get a-" he paused here to lower his voice to match that of the guy on the intercom, ___"Don't__ let that guy who flies the ship, escape either!__" _Jeff complained casually, but the tension in his voice was unmistakable. Nervously, he peered over his shoulder while the commander worked at hacking her way into the vent and listened as the sound of pounding feet echoed from somewhere on the ship.

Her shoulders froze up when she heard the voice over the intercom. Yeah, she expected it, but it still gave her goosebumps. "I'd say you should be grateful for that," she grumbled quietly, crawling through the vent as well. The obsession with killing her/hurting her/etc. villains had with her was ... not enjoyable. "At least you'd be able to tell the crew what happened if I keeled over and died."

The panel changed from orange to green—a very pleasant sight to see. Shepard breathed a sigh of relief and did a quick look around, just to make sure that there was nobody joining them.

Thanks to the relived sigh that emanated from the engineer, Jeff knew she was through the security in record time; thankfully, before any of their armed friends could catch up with them but that blessing would not last them long.

In acknowledgment of the green hologram that signified clearance, the vent's thin shutter opened invitingly to them. Already aware that Shepard still had the task of shutting the vent behind them; Jeff lowered himself to hurriedly take the few steps into the vent. He grumbled something unintelligible as he carried himself forward on his hands and knees just far enough to ensure that the commander would have enough room to take refuge inside as well.

Once he had gotten that far he stopped and partially leaned against the side of the vent shaft to look behind him and wait for her to finish duplicating the hologram. "They sound like they're getting close," he cautioned tensely.

She sealed the room quickly, and her omni-tool placed another orange square over the place they came from. "I'm on it."

Now that they were as safe as they could be for the time being, Shepard allowed herself to stay still and take a breath. Steadying herself on her knees, she sat up and pressed a hand against the room temperature metal—even if the back of her neck was slightly moist. It more so dealt with her anxiety. "It isn't very warm. That's a good thing … no overheating to death for us." She faced Joker directly as her eyebrows pulled back in worry. He looked fine, but ... "You doing alright?"

Jeff let the air escape his lungs in a long relived sigh once the hologram was back in place and the shutter obediently closed behind them. He didn't risk mentioning how glad he was about the heat being off as well. Too afraid that speaking more than he absolutely had to would draw someone's attention to their hiding place and, given the conversation, inspire their attacker on how to run them out instantly.

A prickle of irritation crept its way up his back at her query, but he stopped the instinctual reaction before it took hold of him. Sure, he hated the special treatment and caution people had the habit of expending for him, but under the circumstance she had all the right in the galaxy. Hell, maybe he even took it the wrong way and she was speaking about their situation in general.

"Yeah, I'm good," Jeff said after a moment's hesitation, replying with a light smile in hopes of smoothing out any edge in his voice. "I'll be even better once we're off this ship, so let's keeps going."

Automatically, she slipped past him easily and took the lead. Enthralled to see her moving forward, Joker pressed himself against the side of the vent and picked his arm up to give her more room to squeeze past him. Once she was in the lead, which he was much more comfortable with since there was no telling what lay ahead, he crawled after her.

"Let's take a look at the hangar bay you mentioned." She didn't have much trouble with letting her limbs only hit the vent lightly when she crawled. Less attention, the better. Her armor only felt like it was suffocating her, but that was her fault for wearing the bulky crap. At least, since she didn't have her shields (bastards), she'd have some sort of protection. Her pilot didn't … but that's when she'd take the hit for him.

She almost fell through a big gap. "Ah," she gasped out. "Watch it," was her warning when she halted. "I think … yeah, there's a latter there. That's probably our best bet." Without hesitation, she leaned over the gap to latch both hands onto the top handle. When she swung her legs down, she let them hit either side of the ladder itself with a light thump.

He abruptly stilled when she issued a crisp warning about the drop in front of them and witness as she tested the drop of the latter. Only after hearing Shepard's beckoning, Jeff slowly approached the edge of the gap, glancing down at her apprehensively before complaining, "Ah, shit."

"It's not too bad of a fall," she consoled. "Now let's see if we're in luck."

The pilot waited to grab the top handle until Shepard had made it far enough down that there was no threat of him kicking her in the head. He braced himself, then mirrored Shepard actions and swung his legs down. He took care in doing so as he clutched the handles and held most of his weight in his arms to lessen the impact. It worked surprisingly well; he found his footing quickly and managed to get away with only a small jolt. Turning his head down to watch his step, he started to descend the latter after her.

It ended in another ventilation shaft, with a vent conveniently placed just a few feet behind them. Jeff held his breath anxiously as he took it upon himself to venture towards the covered opening. Bright light spilled through the slots in the vent, tinted by the pale orange shade of the hologram protecting it.

Narrowed eyes lowered to line up with one of the openings as he peered out into the room hopefully. A smile spreading across his bearded face promised good news, "Oh, yeah. This a hangar," he reported buoyantly as he backed further down the vent to allow Shepard room for a view of her own.

Lying beyond the vent was a room far more expansive than the one they had previously been in; which was saying something because of the empty wide-open-space design of the ship. Three small starships, one looking older than the others, were lined up side by side and ready to take flight down the long narrow launch bay that lead to the currently closed airlock that Jeff had seen from outside the ship.

"Just one problem," he said in a near whisper when he heard footsteps echoing from somewhere inside the hangar. "I'm not sure how we'll get the airlock open. There has to be a control console near by that you could hack and control from a distance, but these guys are going to make difficult for us to find it."

The pilot's voice trailed off until it was almost impossible to hear as he watched a batarian who had been ordered to secure this deck motioning to some of his comrades who were out of sight.

Shepard already had her arms strung through the opening Joker left with his own body, working at the next obstruction. Her tongue jotted out slightly in concentration, but she still listened to Joker's words. Not that they were uplifting in any way—incinerate and a combat drone could only get them so far. If there were a few of them, she'd be able to kick all of their asses in close quarter combat; if only they knew how many there were …

"Good to know we've found the right place," she said with a fumble of her omni-tool. "Hacking shouldn't be a problem, but … I should do a quick scout."

She faced him. "I can this quickly and quietly; you're going to have to trust me on this one and stay back here. If I get caught … well, then, I'd advise you to get to the cockpit and contact the Normandy as soon as possible. Stay in the vents until things clear up, and-" Cutting herself off, she slid the vent open quietly and peeked through.

Jeff tensed a little as Shepard's orders sank in. She just expected him to be able to leave her there if she was captured? He had no idea what else he could really do besides hail the Normandy in that situation, but he tried not to think about the turmoil that would cause him to leave Shepard at the mercy of their captors. "Just … don't get caught," he huffed back at her and tuned out any further mentioning of the possibility.

"I'll try not to get eaten by a Collector while I'm out," she kidded, sliding out and running towards one of the star-ships. With a few pokes at her omni-tool, she changed the color of the vent to orange once more; however, this was simply a mod for fooling enemies. It was still unlocked, and if Joker wanted to test her leadership/patience, he could go right ahead and follow her out. It also made for a quick exit if she had to. At least if she got dragged away, she'd probably be able to seal it from a distance.

He wished he could find some humor in her comment about the Collectors, but he found it difficult to acknowledge at all as he watched her slither out of the vent and make a run out into the open. He lost sight of her the minute she circled around one of the star-ships and sank back into the shaft, away from the vent to avoid the possibility of being spotted.

This shouldn't have been as unnerving as it was; he was used to sitting by on the sidelines while Shepard went out and saved the galaxy. All in a normal day's work for the SR-2 crew. Then he reminded himself just how venerable the usually untouchable Shepard was right now.

The crew wasn't here to watch her back, she only had him, and outside of a cockpit he was more of an accountability than an advantage. Her confiscated weapons were nowhere within reach, and she didn't even have a shield to her name. Worse yet, he didn't know how many of their advisories they had on this ship. Who was to say that this all of them? This could have just been one ship in an entire fleet. Though, he didn't feel he needed an exact number to make an accurate guess at just how very screwed they were.

He turned himself around in the shaft and leaned back against the metal next to the vent, drawing his legs up in front of him to sit in the silence and wait as he had been ordered. The more time that passed without the sound of a struggle erupting in the hangar the easier it was for him to relax, but there was always that pessimistic voice in the back of his mind wondering if he had simply missed something and Shepard was in trouble—or worse.

There was the soft rumble of voices, some familiar, some not. It did not faze Shepard. Deftly, she hopped up onto a basic metal ledge around the bottom of the small ship, pressed her back against the ship, and craned her neck backwards to take a look in the window. The windows were darkly tinted, but she could barely make out the lines of something.

Then it hit her. It was a Collector, dead human bodies surrounding it. She turned fully with her stomach against the metal, standing on her tip-toes, just to make sure that old effects from that ol' Beacon weren't messing with her head again. A damned sleeping Collector after a good dinner. Either that or it was dead. The low rumble wasn't just coming from the captors, she realized …

She took a step back out of habit and landed right on her ass thanks to the ledge. Without making a noise, she stood up, shaking her head to get the hopefully fabricated image out of her mind, and went on to the next one.

The same thing.

Footsteps were getting closer, but she needed to check the last one out. When she reached up to pull herself towards the window, she was instantly met with yellow, glowing eyes. Her gasp was moderately loud, but she slapped a hand over her mouth and staggered away. "Oh, shit—shit shit shit!" she whispered harshly.

There was a dry laugh; if it wasn't directed at her, it sure sounded like it. Maybe it was that batarian, and maybe he was laughing at something else, but jeez it didn't help her initial reaction. They knew, she thought. They knew we were going to break out and come into here.

Damn, she wished she was an infiltrator. That cloak …

But she could be stealthy enough to get across. Make some noise, maybe, but if she was quick enough—and she was—she could get back to her pilot. Her feet padded softly against the ground, she spun against the first ship she came across. "We're going to have to get to the cockpit and message the SR-2," she said breathlessly, crawling back through.

Yeah, she probably attracted a little attention, but hopefully not enough for their location to be discovered. "If they're distracted down here, maybe it wont be as heavily guarded up there."

Soft foot steps made him tense for a millisecond until Shepard's breathless voice identified her. Bewildered, he watched the commander clamor quietly back into the safety of the vent and looked behind her to try and understand what caused the strain in her tone. No amount of searching rewarded him with an explanation and he could not bite back on his confusion. "Why? What happened?"

Feeling just a tad safer in the vents with her pilot, for one reason or another, she said, "Because, th-there were—" Shit, did she just stutter? _Calm the fuck down, Jane._ Not her fault that the blasted things still haunted her in her sleep.

Jeff's eyes searched Shepard's for understanding, his brows lifting in unrestrained surprise at the sound of the commander's stuttering. Not once, ever, had he heard Shepard loose her cool and he was beginning to wish he never had because she was his security in all of this. "You're starting to freak me the hell out, Commander."

Ah, jeez, she had let her genuine fear show through and now she was successfully scaring the shit out of Joker. Any other time, she stayed impassive and indifferent, only letting her passion for the completion of the mission showing through. Any other time, she wouldn't be afraid of what's around the corner. But she was.

It was a pretty damn bad time for firsts.

Although she couldn't help herself. Being weaponless, shield-absent, and squad-deprived felt like wandering around without clothes on her first day of getting promoted to commanding officer instead of second-in command. Luckily she didn't encounter a situation such as that, but her insides burned with embarrassment just thinking about it. As if she wasn't nervous enough that day …

He allowed her a moment to breathe, not daring to question her any further after her initial alarmed response. The news that eventually did come made his stomach churn at the thought of walking in on a Collector's meal and he felt a cold sweat starting to bead up on the back of his neck. Their escape plan had fallen out from under them and he was beginning to feel cornered and claustrophobic in the vents. He managed to keep his wavering composure after a brief mental argument with the part of his brain that wanted him to curl up in the vent and pray that he was somehow forgotten by their foes.

She cleared her throat and paused. "There were live Collectors in each ship. At least, that's what it seemed like. I know for sure that one of them was there. Unless you'd like to take the chance with dead human bodies and go along for a ride with a dormant—or not—Collector. It … saw me. Its view was blocked after I shot back here, but—do you think that they can speak with the agents?" she asked suddenly.

"Who knows?" the helmsman finally convinced his voice to work as she wedged past him again. "I didn't spend as much time around them as you did but I never heard a word out of them. Even if they can't communicate verbally they might be able to sound some kind of alarm."

"Harbinger would speak to me by taking control of them. I don't know if any of the team could hear him too, but that was the only form of English language that I've heard from them." She shrugged her armored shoulders and scooted back away from the vent, moving past Joker to get in front of him again.

"The cockpit's probably on the first or second deck," she mused, trying to brush off her previous hangar adventure. "Can you handle it?" A serious question, but she put effort into being cocky; edging him to keep up with her would probably work out better than babying him.

Still, she didn't want him getting any stress (or worse) fractures because of some stupid (yet the safest place on the ship) vents.

She clamped onto the ladder so she could move up again. "Great, an alarm. That's the last thing we need … security would get tighter, then. But hopefully the cockpit is clear. I can take out one or two—maybe three—of them and punch in the SR-2's coordinates, send a signal, give them information … I wouldn't doubt that Miranda's pacing the cockpit as we speak."

Approaching the same ladder that had gotten them down here, Jeff lingered back to allow Shepard the space she needed to grab hold and start climbing. At least they would not have to make the same unsettling hop this time, there would only be climbing from here to the cockpit or so he could hope.

"Come on, Commander. I could fly the _Normandy _in my sleep if I had to," Jeff boasted facetiously, much more comfortable with their playful banter than her conflicted self-image. Appreciative of her tone he swallowed dryly and nodded, leaning forward to support himself on his hands and knees as he trailed her through the vents again. "Yeah. I'll make it. Just promise me that when we do get out of here I can take a shore leave and get drunk enough to permanently forget about all of this." He refused to say _if_ they made it out, feeling some need to subtly encourage Shepard that they would, as strange as that seemed.

Moving up a few more handles, she glanced down at Joker with an eyebrow raised. She never drank alcohol but could find humor in his statement. "That means I'd have to make the leave last two days—because despite your obviously impeccable skill, I ain't letting you fly us around with a hangover." With an added smirk, she said, "Besides, we got off the ship for five minutes and took some deep breaths. Look what happened then." Imagine if the captors had even more time to take them. No armor, either.

"Great, now I'm going to be petrified to ever step foot off her again. Thanks, Commander."


	3. Chapter 3

Grunt stood smoldering as he watched the XO amble around the galaxy map and into the debriefing room to call up the absolutely last person he wanted to go to for help. However, at the willing of his crew mates he grudgingly accepted that they had no other choice. He had no ideas to share with them about how to find Shepard; thinking had never been what he was recruited for. He was here to kill anything the commander didn't like on sight. Nothing else.

"Shepard's one tough son of a bitch," Jack appraised, coming from where Miranda left. "I don't know why the cheerleader's so worried." Obviously, she had a brief idea of what was happening, but didn't need to know the nitty gritty details. "I was hoping I'd never have to follow under her command," she snapped, head jerking back. "Whatever. As long as I'm ordered to kill something, I'll do it." Her voice wasn't aimed at anybody in particular, but she did like the krogan the best out of the current bunch (she supposed Tali was okay too) and slid next to him on the side where Samara was not.

He rolled his neck to glance at Jack. His lumbering frame visibly relaxed to her sharp words. "At least I'm not the only one who thinks she's too …" He paused mid-sentence to search for the appropriately descriptive word, "_jumpy_ to be a leader. But it's what Shepard wants," he conceded gruffly, his arguments tamed for now.

"Maybe," Tali answered Grunt, "but she knows how to get things done. Jumpy as she may seem, she's got the experience to lead. Isn't that why Shepard put her in charge of the first firing squad back at the base?" The quarian had her doubts about the Cerberus operative at first, but she grew to trust her; she was not let down when her life was determined by Miranda's cover after she escaped the ventilation shaft.

Grunt considered Tali as she spoke, rolling his armored shoulders in a shrug at her defense of the XO. "I'm just saying I don't like it. Not that I won't follow it. Unless she does something incredibly stupid."  
All they could do was wait for Miranda to get done talking with their unofficial 'leader', so to speak.

Samara wandered off to go meditate in the starboard observation deck, per usual; she found that it would be more calming to reflect on their location and what they would be doing. Taking solace in the silence is what she did best; unfortunately she wouldn't find it in here. Jack, Grunt, Tali, and so on? Yeah, right.

Grunt stepped out onto the deck again, but this time not to block anyone's path or toss out threats. The krogan traced a path around the galaxy map, his heavy feet causing the floor paneling to shake a little with his stride until he reached the elevator. Stepping inside he tapped hologram display requested to be lowered to the forth deck to take refuge within his cargo hold. "Until then, I'm leaving. I don't like it up here."

Gently, the elevator doors closed in front of him and cut him off from the rest of the crew.

Jack watched her krogan comrade saunter off with a scowl. "Well, shit." She didn't want to leave, not after this exciting incident. She wanted to _do_ something, so waiting for Miranda was the thing she decided on doing. For once.

Garrus looked from the elevators doors with a slow exhale and shuffled his weight between feet as he continued to stand by for Miranda's report. "Never thought I would miss Wrex, but here I am one pubescent Krogan later and I can honestly say that I do." He expected the Quarian standing next him to understand his humor better than anyone else present.

Tali provided a laugh for him. Yeah, she could definitely agree with that. "They're a little similar, actually—even though Wrex would probably rip out my filtration system for saying that," she said lightly, smiling beneath her mask. "He'd hate to be compared to 'the runt'. The bosh'tet was still a good friend. Maybe that was because I wasn't turian …"

She glanced up at Garrus and held back a snicker, glowing eyes creased in amusement. Unfortunately, the hatred between the two would be inevitable. Sure, it'd go away eventually, but what with that turian-krogan war, well, things were a tad rusty, to say the least.

Garrus chuckled briefly at Tali's agreement. She had a sound point; neither Wrex nor Grunt ever let him forget the history between their species.

"You don't know what you're missing by not being a turian," he disputed in fun, trying to take the edge off their wait by taking up a common past time. That being to egg Tali on about her immune system, something that had earned him a reminder about her owning a shotgun on more than one occasion. "All this fresh air, it's nice."

The quarian dismissed herself, facing Garrus before nodding in the opposite direction. She said to him sarcastically, "Uh-huh. Did you know that I've got a new name for my shotgun? She told me she'd love to get to know you a bit more ... personally."

Garrus followed after Tali to pile into the elevator with the rest of the crew and descend down to the varying levels of their stations, quirking his brow plates and mandibles in what could only be described as a turian grin in return to Tali's threat. No verbal reaction ever came though; they had to work to get done.

* * *

It was sad, but, "I don't think I'll ever _want_ another shore leave. Keep me on the ship an' I'll be fine. At least then I can save any of my team's asses if they get in trouble. I feel terrible that I can't, you know," she admitted to him rather quietly, referring to him. At the top of the first ladder, she knelt down and waited for him to join her. "A powerless commander is just about as useless as the Collectors without their Reaper gods."

Jeff pulled himself up into the vent alongside her, pausing for a short breather once he had caught up to her. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he attempted to downplay her confession. It was his last wish to have her guilt tripping herself because of him. "This all sucks and everything, but your weapons should be in cockpit from what I overheard. Commander Shepard with a full arsenal—not exactly my idea of powerless. So, let's go get them, you can do your ass-kicking thing, we call the _Normandy_ and go home. Simple as that—well, you know, until the whole Reaper fleet thing, but that's for another day."

The way he so-casually brushed off her sentiment put a momentary frown on her lips. He did that thing often; he just must not be a 'feelings' sort-of-guy. Which she could somewhat understand.

"Uh-huh," Shepard drawled, a glint of amusement shining in her eyes. "You say that now—wait, have you ever fallen asleep while flying the ship?" she asked suspiciously, eyebrow raised high. The comment before of about piloting the SR-2 in his sleep finally clicked. "Before EDI, I mean, because I know that she can take up the leverage when you get tired."

An immodest grin met Shepard's suspicion and only grew as she gently drilled him over his practices in the cockpit before EDI was there to keep a mothering eye on him. "See? I'm so damn good that you don't know the answer to that." He did not appear as though he had any intention of clearing it up for her either, too preoccupied with patting himself on the back to the bothered or maybe it was a sly way of avoiding the question entirely. A sure sign of guilt.

Shepard's eyes narrowed in beguilement, a laugh escaping from her. "You're so _damned_ cocky, you know that? And don't think that I didn't notice you didn't answer my question," she said, bringing up a finger to wave slightly at him in a disappointed teacher-like manner. Whatever, she thought; he was right. She hadn't noticed if he _did_, which meant he was doing an excellent job. Besides, she trusted his capabilities of safely carrying her and her team through the skies like he trusted her capabilities to save his hide.

Formulating a plan, she continued to ascend through the multiple ladders. "Alright, this is what's going to happen: I'll jump down into the cockpit first, clear out those that are in it. You follow up, go straight for the controls and contact the SR-2. I'll get my weapons in the meantime and hold off anybody that decides to mess with us any longer." The hostility in her voice was strong; yes, she'd make these bastards pay.

Well, that was the plan. Plans haven't exactly been working lately, however. Well, there was no other option.

Jeff physically felt his spirit rise when Shepard's usual assertions came back, both in her plans and in her tone. "You got it," he agreed enthusiastically. The pilot was absolutely ecstatic at the thought of finally being of some use.

Whatever it was in the commander that made others so willing to follow her without question was not limited to the more combat-oriented members of her crew. Seeming to thrive off of it just as much as any of them, Jeff picked up his pace and chased after her through the labyrinth of shafts and ladders.

The nearest vent leading into the cockpit greeted them promisingly when they reached the uppermost deck. The prize was worth the climb, Jeff could see from his peephole through one of the vents. There were only three beings occupying the dock, which was a roundly shaped open room with the controls positioned at the bow of the star-ship, and two smaller consoles on either side. Sitting in the pilot's seat was the most grotesque among the trio: a Collector. The other two, both turian, were absorbed in their duties at the smaller work stations.

Jeff strained his neck to observe the rest of the room by peeking just below them; closing the cockpit off from the rest of the ship were two heavy looking automatic doors that closed together in the middle. Sitting beside the doors was a vaguely familiar but important storage container. He had been dazed by the sight of Collector pods when first brought aboard but he distinctly recalled seeing the batarian store Shepard's weapons in just such a device. The helmsman could tell at a glance that the weapons were under lock down by glaring red hologram flickering over its front, but there was little to nothing she could not hack.

Afraid that speaking would draw the awareness of their foes, he reached up and put a hand on the plating protecting the commander's shoulder and tilted his head down in indication to her sealed armory below them.

She allowed Joker to show her what he was looking at. "Ah, good." She squinted. "It's locked. Maybe I can hack it from here, but that might attract attention …"

Chewing on her lip, she pulled out her omni-tool and first worked on the lock in front of them now. _Ignore the Collector, ignore the Collector … _It was so odd to see a Collector flying a ship, honestly. They had to get around somewhere, she guessed, but still.

When the hologram made its change from orange to green, she slowly and quietly slid it open, just enough to get out. Time to pull a Thane.

She moved out of a crouching position and shot up to take the first turian by the neck, twisted it in her hands to snap it, and she successfully cut off his ability to live. Of course, the other turian and Collector's attention were now urgently focused on the woman. Running towards her weapon case, she sent out a combat drone by flicking the arm with the omni-tool towards the duo. That would be able to distract them for a few very brief and very important moments.

For the time being, Jeff could only watch as Shepard spilled silently onto the floor. He was truthfully impressed that she didn't draw attention to herself in that clunky armor, but he did not take time to relish in the admiration. Catching himself holding his breath as the first turian's neck gave a snap making his stomach lurch uncomfortably. He could handle seeing gore to a degree, but the snapping of bones was a bit of a raw nerve.

"Go, go, go," she told herself, not at all pleased by the pressuring feeling in her head. She felt like Tali probably did when she was hacking through the door at the base. When the other turian slipped past the drone, she jerked her neck back but was restrained by his hold. An incinerate that landed dangerously close to her own face but connected with his own instead shot out of her trusty tool.

He lowered himself against the floor of the shaft, tensing when the turian latched onto Shepard but a face full of fire was all it took to convince him to free her. The storage locker's top popped free and not even a moment later, the resonating sound of gunshots boomed through the entire ventilation shaft.

A few seconds and she heard the putter out of her drone. The cache clicked open and she brought out her hand cannon immediately.

"Die, you bastard," she grunted, each heavy shot sounding off in the room. Now that she had the metal life-saver in her hand, she moved around the thing like a dance and rammed her elbow against the creature with full-force. It staggered across the opposite side of the room, towards the double doors, and that's when Shepard yelled, "Joker, go now!"

She'd have this Collector distracted while the pilot did his thing; more reinforcements were bound to show up.

Called to action, Jeff pushed the grate open and clamored out from his hiding spot with considerably less grace than the commander. Running was an impossibility, but he mocked it the best he could as he made a hasty dash towards the controls. Slumping into the Collector's seat, he tapped the controls and narrowed his eyes at the multitude of holographic screens that responded across the board.

Leaning forward in his newly claimed seat he stretched his hands out over the panel in front of him, fingers working away at the controls as he prepared a to-the-point report for the Normandy, consisting solely of their coordinates. Reaching up he jammed one of the holograms hovering just above his head and called, "Coordinates out, commander!"

Joker's words were like a rush of an adrenaline burst; she felt stronger, lighter, faster—everything that would drive them towards success. Knowing that the _Normandy_ would get their location also was a metaphorical rag to wipe off the sweat of their stressful time on the ship. "Hell yeah!" she shouted.

He peered around the edge of the seat to eyeball the fight taking place behind him. He'd hailed the _Normandy_, now it was time to start fighting back. Shepard could handle three men with ease but perhaps not an entire army, which was surely on its way. Jerking back around in the chair, his expression hardened as a he searched the display until he found what he was looking for. A hand reached for it and summoned a panel which opened a readout that was useful only to the trained eye.

From behind the door a loud chorus of heavy footsteps began to drum. The alarm had gone off and predictably summoned the attention of a large squad to the corridor just outside the cockpit doors. They had yet to reach entrance but they were bearing down fast and loud, threatening to burst in on them in a matter of seconds.

Shepard could also hear the thunder-like stomps on that deck. They sure were creating a racket, and she didn't know whether that was a flat-out bad thing or something to induce a good chuckle.

She stalked forward like a momma tiger protecting her cub, ready to ignite the Collector or worse; that is, until she heard the distressed call from Joker.

Knowing that it had to be important for him to yell an order at her, she was one-hundred percent sure that it had to be followed. He probably knew what was going on more than she did, what with being up at the main console and having a layout of everything. Chances were that he was going to pull off some miraculous stunt to save their asses, because she could take on a lot of these guys—but it was the same deal with Garrus. Funnels were nice, sure, but her vitals would weaken, they'd take her down, and she'd not be there to protect her helmsman.

And she couldn't have that, now could she?

"Stay away from the door!" the helmsman barked; even though it wasn't his place to give orders, he expected that Shepard would trust his judgment. "Shove that bastard at them if you have to!"

So she grabbed the stunned/dazed Collector and rammed it towards the opening with the back of her hand canon and fist combination. The impact was strong; she could feel the pulsating of the bones and blood in the hand she had used.

All sense of fear drained by his focus, Jeff inhaled sharply and activated a purging protocol. EDI had already proved its efficiency once before, when the Collectors invaded the _Normandy__;_ he just silently hoped the AI never learned about her being his inspiration now. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Stand by, breaching the hull. Airlocks will activate in three …" a computerized male voice echoed in a multitude of dialects, English being the only one he understood. The automatic doors separating them from the rest of the ship opened partially as the crew summoned to action by the alarm finally arrived.

When Shepard heard the VI's voice, she understood what was going on. Backing up a little, she saw the agents all crowded around.

All of them were armed to the teeth, activating shields and preparing their weapons for battle. Rather than opening fire, they looked surprised by the fact that the doors refused to open fully for them, and there were far too many to fit in through the narrow passage. An armored salarian recovered more quickly than his comrades and fired a burst from his M-15 Vindicator in Shepard's direction through the opening.

The joints in the door screeched as the computer struggled to compute with two conflicting orders, opening to allow the crew passage or sealing for Joker's purge. It settled on the latter. The mechanism suddenly released and slammed the door shut in such a violent manner that it could easily crush through flesh and bone before locking them in an air tight seal and protect them from the purge.

"… Two …"

The pounding of fists and guns erupted from behind the door as it locked securely into place, the hologram that appeared in front of it glowing an intimidating red.

"One."

The noise died away instantly as the airlocks opened and all of their attackers in the hall (and anywhere else on the ship that wasn't a secure room like their own) were sucked away into the vacuum of space to be forever forgotten.

Because her shields were still down, the shots from the salarian pierced the lower right side of her stomach stung like a bitch. She hissed through ground teeth but staggered more towards the main consoles so she could watch the Collector get smashed with a bitter smile and her left hand pressed against the wound. When the silence hit, she lifted up her hand and saw red covering the fabric of the gloves, so she reloaded her hand cannon with a click and put it back on the wound for pressure. She shrugged it off and turned to Joker.

Jeff looked over the dim projections in front of him and released a steady breath as he reclined back into his seat once he felt it was okay to relax a little. "I'm still reading life on-board, other than us," he said; apparently some were already in secured rooms or had scrambled there when they heard the automated warning.

"They wont be a problem. I've still got my weapons—" and her creepy as hell cybernetics would help the wound, it'd just take a while— "and we should be safe up here for a few, right?"

His limbs felt suddenly heavy once the chaos was over and, for the time being, they were safe. Safe, for the first time since leaving the _Normandy_. Letting his arms drop back along his sides he craned his neck back to rest his head thankfully against the back of the chair and closed his eyes for a moment to relish in that sorely messed sense of security.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "I locked down the whole ship. They can hack through it, but they will have to hack through every single door in their way to get to us. So that buys us some time."

She meandered back towards the weapons cache and slowly but surely placed them in their places along her back, keeping the hand cannon out in her right hand.

Jeff opened his eyes again to see the blood on her hand and some back splash onto the side of her armor and immediately picked his head back up, sitting straight in the chair. He had seen her come limping back to the _Normandy_ with far worse before, that didn't mean he didn't care, and he always made Chakwas report on her condition for his peace of mind (rather Shepard knew/approved or not).

But the fact that she had been shot watching _his_ back bugged him even more than he expected it to, call it a lasting sense of responsibly he felt for her death.

"Sorry, commander," he apologized, a frown darkening his features. "Are you okay?" Even with that reassuring smile, which usually convinced him of anything, he could not help but bite his tongue.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Dryly, she said, "You should know that I've gone through worse." This could have implied that she did or did not know about his little medical bay watch; she kept it vague. Touched by his concern but feeling the same as him when it came to being fussed over, she waved him off with the hand cannon. "I'll be fine. Not only that, but we've got the _Normandy_ on her way, I'm sure." She gave a placid, reassuring smile.

He lit up a little bit at the thought of the Normandy on its way and smiled more willingly, "I know she is, the message went through flawlessly and EDI can get her here in no time. Well, you the space travel version of no time." He was not sure what to think about Shepard's vague response. For some reason the thought that she knew about his checks with the medical bay slightly embarrassed him, which was unusual, because he generally didn't care about the image he projected of himself so long as it suited him. Well, that was as long as he wasn't getting pitied or looked down on as that guy with the disease, and his flying skills were respected.

"Yeah, okay." Jeff brushed her wound off after that. "I was just checking anyway. If we go back to the Normandy and you're slowly bleeding out I want to at least prepare myself before everyone beats me to death for not doing anything about it," he added sarcastically, just to completely defuse the momentary seriousness that had been in tone.

"A real pal."

To stop the bleeding, she knew she'd have to wrap herself up the old fashioned way or apply some omni-gel. She slid up onto an empty console and started to unseal the clips of her upper armor. They hissed in release and she took each individual piece to set it nicely next to her in an organized row. Her underclothes weren't too badly damaged, only the gray, plain tank top soaked with blood.

The hiss of her armor unlocking made Joker glance towards the sound, then lean back into his chair as he studied the console instead, giving Shepard the time and quiet she needed to focus on treating her wound. Inquisitively, he leaned forward and started to tap away at the keys nearest him; if they were going to be stuck here they might as well take a look around and see what they could dig up on their opposition.

Fortunately, she _did_ have the healing gel stored in her omni-tool, so the faint hum of the orange machine glazed over her entry wound. A pair of tweezers were stored on he inside of her armor, where she not-so skillfully removed the remains of the bullets. She'd done it a hundred times on field (for both herself and her squad), so the pain didn't hurt, but she wasn't a professional like Chakwas. The metallic pellets clinking as they hit the other side of her on the console (away from Joker), she let the omni-gel do the rest of the work and lolled her head back.

With the added cybernetics from being rebuilt, it healed up in no time. She preferred to not look at the process, just because it was her own body doing it, uncontrolled, thanks to some technology that she didn't even ask for. It came in handy though, just for these kinds of situations.

She kept on the bloodstained tank top for the sake of simply not wanting to take it off in this particular place, put the armor back on piece-by-piece, and sent a thumbs up to the helmsman.

"All ready for battle, Lieutenant," she said with a wink. And she wasn't kidding—going out there and smashing each one of those captors sounded fabulous right now. Her shields were slowly regenerating as well, which meant she'd gain back the ability to use overload. With things finally looking up, she couldn't help but smile.

He worked quietly at this chore until the sound of her armor fasting back into place informed him that Shepard was all patched and suited up; a glance over his shoulder confirmed this. "_Flight Lieutenant Jeff ____Moreau__," h_e corrected with a smirk, a good mood brought on by the way things had shifted in their favor. "If you're going to say it, at least give it some oomph."

"It's a little long, ain't it?" the commander mused, working a kink out of her neck by rocking it back and forth, arms resting behind her. She then leaned over and peered at the screens that only made partial sense to her; words were recognizable, but the scans completely threw her off guard. Fortunately it seemed that her pilot had a good enough grasp on the images. To be expected.

Looking back to the hologram displays he continued going through the terminal. "Huh." He tilted his head and repositioned himself to a more comfortable position in his chair. "There's something about a Prothean program. Seems like these guys wanted to keep it under wraps, though. The security on this thing is brutal."

* * *

The Illusive Man couldn't just bring up one of his holographic pads, point at it to search for Shepard and Joker's location, and then give her a smile and say, "Right here." He _would have_ been able to, if the damned man only had put a control chip into Shepard. Even after becoming such great friends with her commander, she still thought it had been a good idea. Who knew if she was going to comply? It was easier because she did, but they could have sent a signal to the chip and found out where she was …

See, multiple uses, thought the XO.

But, no. No location, only a contemplative gaze, a puff of smoke that had no scent or substance in her location, and a: "We'll find her. See to it that the crew stays in line. That's your job now, Miranda. Shepard can handle herself and the pilot." Hell, even the pilot would do well without her; he did get rid of all the Collectors on the _Normandy_. Sure, there was help from EDI, but he did most of the work.

However, he did bring up a few miniature versions of the galaxy map. The orange glow illuminated his features, reflecting off those intimidatingly bright eyes of his. They circled around him, giving little view for Miranda anymore.

It was a disappointing adventure to the debriefing room, but he was right. Miranda's boots clicked and clacked, signaling the crew of her return.

She refused to be nervous anymore. "He's using the resources he can to find her. For now, we wait." Just keep waiting. That's all they've been doing, will do, _can_ do …

Jack looked disappointed. She swallowed back the urge to bark something at the Cerberus cheerleader, but kept her cool and ventured off without another word.

"Jacob, would you mind staying up here?" Miranda asked. Why? Well, she didn't exactly have a reason. EDI wasn't the best company; at least, not for her. Joker, maybe, but certainly not her. Two extreme professionals like themselves (okay, EDI was pretty much a failed AI that gave Shepard tons of classified Cerberus information as soon as she was unshackled—not to mention she messed with the pilot all the time) didn't mix as well as they should.

The SR-2's Armory chief had been contemplatively mute since boarding the _Normandy_ and relaying Shepard's message about the tank damage, her last order before vanishing completely. He was hardly conscious of the crew grouped around the cockpit now as he leaned back against the closed airlock, silently chewing the situation over in his mind.

The sound of his name drew him back to reality and instinctively he stood straight. The transition of Miranda taking the reigns was easy for him to accept, as she had already acted as his superior officer once before. "Sure thing," Jacob complied to her request. Although he was not entirely clear on what she needed him for, he did not question her command.

Jacob was ordered to stay with her mostly because she'd like somebody to bounce ideas off with; EDI did the technicalities, but she needed the ideas that only a suspicious and careful human could come up with. That could qualify as anybody, but since she's worked with the other operative before, it'd go a lot smoother.

He turned his head to watch as the crow began to disperse, everyone shuffled off to carry on with their duties in spite of the two major losses. Shepard's absence left one hell of a void that Miranda was courageously trying to feel, but Jacob knew that even if it had not hit as hard yet—on a professional level, at least—the loss of their pilot was no less of a blow. EDI was capable, even apt, at flying the ship on her own, but there was no replacement for Joker. He might have been a little to cocky for Jacob's taste, but he could not deny the man's skill.

With the cockpit clear of everyone but himself, Miranda, EDI, and Jacob listened attentively to the information the AI gathered from its scans before the ship vanished through a mass relay.

"EDI, tell us more about the Collector technology on board."

"It appears that they have acquired the same pods on both derelict ships _and_ the Collector base. If I am correct, there were signs of actual Collector lifeforms on deck."

Miranda tilted her head slightly and then shook it. "But that doesn't make any sense. We blew their home to hell … unless they're just stragglers. Not all of the Collectors could have been at the base when we were."

"Precisely. There were also similar barriers and locks, encountered on the base as well. My suspicion lies within the fact that there were also humans—_live_ humans—and other aliens on board. It could be that there are agents working for them. Either that, or visa-versa. It is hard to tell."

"Agents? I've heard something about that. If they've got the same materials as before, it could be like the suicide mission all over again … without us."

Involuntarily, Jacob closed his eyes as EDI's reports progressively grew darker, eventually forcing Miranda to make a grim premonition about the odds Shepard and Joker faced. One that he could not argue. "I'm sure that was exactly their plan," he agreed. "Separating us from Shepard is the most strategic thing they could do. They knew they didn't stand a chance any other way. We got that much through to the Collectors when we left a bomb on their front door."

Jacob laced his arms in front of his chest and opened his eyes before speaking. "You know what that means, don't you? They are going to throw our search off every chance they get. Hell, they'll probably come after _us_ before we find _them_."

"We'll be ready if they do," Miranda stated firmly. "EDI, run secure checks along the ship to make sure our defenses are at tip-top shape." Again with the waiting. It felt terrible knowing that they had to sit without any real intentions; the outcome would lead to them being attacked or having the Illusive Man report back to them. The galaxy was a big place. He knew that, she knew that—everyone did. Especially when all they identified was the class of the ship, and that there were Collector lifeforms aboard.

Fortunately, that _would_ simplify the search for the information specialist.

"Yes, Ms. Lawson."

She turned to Jacob. "Any ideas yourself?"

"I wish." Jacob turned down the offer to enlighten her with plans of his own but there was nothing more he could add. It was a testament to the reputable effort Miranda was putting forth into her new role. She had never been short on any quality that made a good leader, or any quality at all for that matter. Her father had crafted her to be perfect and he had not failed. Although he had failed to capture that one thing that made Shepard what she was, but he respected Miranda's command no less for it. Shepard was a caliber all her own.

"I hate to say it, but everything is riding on the Illusive Man now." He rolled his shoulders in a discontent shrug. "There's nothing else we can do. Unless we go in blind, but I don't have to point out how stupid that would be."

He uncrossed his arms and let them drop back down to his sides, regarding her with a thoughtful but carefully restrained expression. Getting personal with Miranda was something he avoided as a general rule of thumb. Not that it made them unfriendly or negatively affected their ability to work together, but there was a history between them that made causal conversation feel almost unnatural. He decided today was as a good day as any to break that barrier, closing his hand into a loose fist as he dropped the professional tone. "How are you holding up? Not that any of us could do any better, but you're having to fill some pretty big shoes."

"The ship's interior and exterior is at one-hundred percent, now that Tali has fixed the puncture from before," the AI said as she phased into view.

"Good. As long as Garrus is doing calibrations … which is most of the time—we'll be ready to fire the Thanix cannon if they come back to find us." Her eyes stared off into the black void around us, muttering, "You know, maybe it'd be better if they came for us. It'd sure be a hell of a lot easier to find them. We've got a fighting chance, we're the best of the best." That was something she didn't doubt, not one bit.

She turned to her comrade and felt the slight tension. Yes, they had an unfortunate ending to their history together, but she tried her best to stay completely neutral. And she still cared; after all, that's why she found his father. "Don't worry about me, Jacob. It's the same as every other time. It's not like we can go blasting through deep space to try and find her, so we have to stay dormant."

Pausing, she put one hand on a metal console and the other on her hip. "I don't know how they could find us if we went through the Mass Relay as well." They haven't, yet, but it was tempting. "Unless they installed some sort of tracking device when we weren't looking."

"My scans did not detect any sort of a tracking device," EDI chimed reassuringly.

He silently regarded Miranda, wearing an expression that was too obscure and mingled to be accurately read. He finally offered a nod of acknowledgment before the whole thing dissipated and his attitude shifted back to that of a solider. Restrained, focused, and diligent. Not a concerned friend, although that word may have been a little too strong.

"Can't see how it could hurt us," he recognized, "With the SR-2 ready, it's better we stay on the move than idle around like sitting ducks while we wait on word from the Illusive Man. If EDI is sure that we're clear of bugs than I say we go for it." He shrugged. "No more risk here than out there."

Miranda shrugged simply and said, "Maybe you're right." Though she didn't care for his opposing idea, that _was_ why she kept him up here. It felt okay to know somebody had decided what they thought was best. But where would they go?

"Wait," she said, although that's what they've been doing and there wasn't much of a relevance to say it, "EDI, plot a course for Illium." She had gone with Shepard to the crisp planet when they had to go save Orianna, but they stopped to talk to an old asari friend in the meantime. "Liara T'soni probably has information on these … these agents that we might have encountered. She's a great at what she does, as I've heard from the Illusive Man, so she's probably a good choice for us right now."

Besides, they didn't have much else to do. Getting to know their enemy was ultimately the best decision that could be made right now.

"Destination confirmed, Ms. Lawson."

Jacob lifted his chin curiously when Miranda suddenly ground their planning, little as it was, to a halt. It was for good reason, her idea was a plausible and having two well renowned information specialists combing through the 'verse for data at the same time was bound to get them some results.

"Smart," he praised.

Thoughtfully, he relaxed his shoulders and paced closer to the cockpit, stopping behind Joker's chair to the black blanket of space envelop around the ship through the bay windows as he considered their destination. Jacob lowered his gaze to skim over the dim holographic displays crowding the cockpit, not sure how to read any of it in gross detail, but EDI would get them there without trouble. "Let's just hope that our agents don't have any contacts of their own on Illium to call us in on sight."

His focus went back to the acting captain. "It's your call, but it might be a good idea to send a ground team down in the shuttle rather than docking the _Normandy_ to port. We will be less noticeable that way."

"That's a good point," Miranda agreed. "Alright. EDI, prepare the shuttle. Jacob, you, myself, Thane, and Samara will go down in the kodiak. The rest will stay here in case something happens while we're gone."

* * *

Jeff leaned back in surprised when the screens suddenly came alive with fresh readouts, small beeping noises emitting from the console with every fresh piece of information that came in. He pressed his face closer to the holograms in confusion, studying them carefully for a moment. Then the color drained from his face, and his eyes flashed in mingle of alarm and understanding.

"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Frantic, he manned the controls once more, typing a swiftly into the mock keyboard that displayed on command to the right side of the controls, all in the effort to get a warning message out to the SR-2 as quickly as humanly possible.

"Prothean?" Her voice was soft and mostly to herself, and she was about to say something more before Joker had burst into the series of curses. "What, what?"

His flying fingers and urgent eyes were enough for her to hop down and stand up straight, a hand resting on the back of Joker's temporary chair. The _a Collector was sitting here_ thought still floated around in her head.

After he had sent it, Jeff looked forward at the screen expectantly, having to remind himself that Shepard was standing behind him and awaiting an explanation for his panic.

"They intercepted our last message." Jeff explained breathlessly as he placed his hands on the solid parts of the display. "They got the _Normandy_'s position from it and sent them the false coordinates. You see all of this? These are readings from other ships, this one must be part of a small fleet. These guys have friends out there, and they just set the _Normandy_ up to come to them."

The thought made him experience that same sickly feeling that had washed over him when Shepard snapped the turian's neck, it had just been much easier to ignore then. "I just sent out a warning to them, directing it to go through the nearest mass relay then bounce back to them so that can't be tracked. He could kick himself for not thinking to do that in the first place. Although, at the time the goal was to get their position out as quickly as possible which is what he had—now—regrettably done. "It might be too little to late though, if they have made the jump. It's too far away for us to get there in time to do anything about it either."

"They _what_?" she growled, hands tightening on the chair. "Well, damn—you got the warning out; hopefully they didn't make the jump." She shook her head in disbelief as her free hand fiddled with the gun. "They really thought this through. A fleet … You know the ship's defenses and offenses as well as EDI does. Do you think that she'll be okay?" The crew, too, but if the ship wouldn't hold up, neither would they. The chain of destruction was quite strong today.

The scurry of Collector movement could be heard near as well, most likely from outside of the cockpit. "And here I thought we'd be cruising back together in this homey ship. Safely. Karma, I swear …"

Jeff pressed his hands harder into the solid structure of the console. They had done everything they could but it was agonizing to not know if their efforts had been enough. He finally convinced the muscles in his arms to relax and released the panel in front of him as he sat back into the chair.

"Against one ship, maybe. I'd even say EDI could drop them if she hits just right with the Thanix Cannon, but what if there's more? I can't tell. I can't even tell you what kind of ship is out there waiting for them. All I know is that it's connected to this one since we're getting reports from them and they picked up on our message."

It was driving him mad to not be present now; getting the _Normandy_ and her crew out of battles in one piece was his job. Being there to said job took the edge off, even encouraged him to perform better, but standing by biting his nails? He had no idea how the rest of the crew were able to stand it when he took them through the Omega-four relay.

The scurrying disturbance of Collector noise finally convinced him to look away from illuminated screens. The burning in his eyes reminding him to start blinking again instead of staring wide eyed at the displays in the hopes that he had misread. It was all the distressed pilot could do to groan in agreement with Shepard's complaints. "I'm starting to think they just want to stress or annoy us to death, rather than killing us the ol' fashioned way."

Shepard nodded along with Joker's grim words, hoping to whatever deity out there that her crew will be okay. It was frustrating that she wasn't physically there to help them.

"That's what I'm thinking too. They've definitely got the stress part down," she muttered, going towards the doors with her sub machine gun. Good thing it had been recently upgraded with ammo extensions and damage increase, because their enemies sure as hell didn't go down without a fight. She manually pried the doors open and shot her head back to Joker.

Jeff tensely peaked around the chairs back when the doors creaked and groaned in protest to Shepard prying them open. He could not get a read on how many beings were left alive on the ship after the purge, but the drumming of multiple Collectors wings assured that there were plenty of things left for Shepard to shoot. Unfortunately, they all shot back and could rely on one another for cover fire, where as the commander was a lone solider in the miniature war.

"I'll be right outside here. Even if we can't get to them in time, still go after the _Normandy_."

The Collector wings disrupted her voice. She stuck out the dry blood-covered hand with the SMG and fired five rounds of shots. "Maybe we'll be the back-up that they're not expecting. This thing is bound to have killer guns." By the strength of the particle beam, she knew that their weapons were incredibly strong. "If anybody can get us there safely, it's you, Joker."

And she'd guard this door with her dying breath if she had to, she promised. However, she was hoping that that wouldn't be the case, and they'd both be able to get back on the hopefully-still intact (they had all of their upgrades, and the crew …) SR-2 and just relax for a little while.

Shields finally returning, she put up a tech shield that covered the outside of her body, glowing like white holographic screens.

SMG fire threatened to drown out her orders but he had heard just enough to understand. Ignoring that illogical part of his brain that wanted to tell her to get back in the cockpit and hope the doors held off their attackers, he snapped into action and wheeled around in his chair.

"Got it! Hang in there, Commander!" he called back diplomatically and glowered up at the screen and all its unfamiliar controls. Everything he had done up until now had been child's play (by Joker's standard). Now it was time to see what this thing could do.

"I can do this," he muttered to himself reassuringly with no hint of doubt in his voice at all. The helmsman tuned out the sounds of Shepard's fight just enough to sharpen his concentration, although he knew he couldn't afford to be entirely unaware of what was going on behind him. Jeff placed absolute faith in Shepard's ability to watch his back, so it wasn't for his own paranoid purposes that some part of his subconscious digested the muted sounds of battle.

He was waiting on her call if it were ever to come, be it that she was keeping him informed or calling for help. He wouldn't be able to run to her aid or anything quite so dramatic, but he might be able to close off a certain doors for a short about of time and buy her a few precious seconds.

Buckling down, he hunched over the displays and meticulously worked at them. Using the Collector agent's own tricks against them he scrambled their transmissions to avoid drawing attention to their movement then brought the ships engines to life. They roared and began propelling the ship forward through the inky blackness of the galaxy, finally breaking out of the idling drift it had been stuck in since the Collector pilot's demise.

Plotting a course for the _Normandy_, he pushed the ship forward as quickly as she could go without activating the drive core, which he was absolutely certain the ship had since the Collectors had once used it to practically land on top of his head during their first strike against the SR-2. It was his turn to make them shit their pants. He was saving the energy for the last moment, so that they could leap instantly across that last stretch of space that separated them from their ship and crew.

"Just hold them off, EDI," he coaxed the AI pointlessly from across the depths of deep space. "We're coming."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **__I'm not letting go the 'Shadow Joker-Broker' thing. Until the Liara DLC comes out, I refuse to think anything else~_

* * *

Miranda called and contacted the other two squad mates that she had mentioned through the comm. Taking the reigns of the kodiak, she revved up the vehicle and waited. Shadowing Miranda to the shuttle, Jacob looked out for their two beckoned crew-mates to arrive. Thane appeared in the hangar at a timely manner and joined them inside the Kodiak stoically, lacing his hands together and bowing his head in prayer as he always did during the duration of a flight towards a mission.

Jacob didn't say anything about it, respecting whatever it was Thane wanted to believe in, but he hoped that things didn't get quite _that_ bad so soon. However, with the way things were going it would not have shocked him.

When Samara joined as the last member to climb aboard the shuttle, the second-in command pulled out of the recently-opened doors that EDI opened up for them. There was a shuttle bay near the docking entrance for larger ships, so she pulled in their with practiced ease and parked.

EDI, who had been monitoring the ship since Miranda and the small squad's departure, focused her attention on the distress call that she received. The ground team skulking the sidelines of Illium, she reported, "Ms. Lawson, there has been an unidentified message from what could be the same ship that Shepard and Jeff are on."

"_What?_" she half-shouted, stopping in her tracks. Liara's office was just up the stairs, if she remembered correctly. "What does it say?"

"They are merely coordinates. Awaiting orders," she said.

Jacob paused behind Miranda when she froze on the stair case leading them up to their objective. It was just as well, because his own legs refused to take him a step further as the surprise monetarily robbed him of his motor skills. He looked up expectantly to XO. They could only cross their fingers and pray that the call was genuine and not a dangerously tempting trap set up by the collector agents.

Miranda worried her bottom lip between her teeth. After the pause, she said, "Go after it. We'll be fine on Illium. We still better get information from Liara T'soni, just in case." More than half of the crew was on board, anyway. They'd be okay, or so she hoped.

The Justicar nodded in agreement with the XO.

"Yes," EDI confirmed. "Plotting course to Mass Relay and coordinates. Be careful," she added as an afterthought of sorts.

Samara smiled lightly. It was funny to see an AI care.

Liara's office was just the way that Miranda remembered it. And boy, she sure looked surprised upon seeing two Cerberus operatives and two deadly, previously-on-Illium killers. Luckily, she had not been on a call, but a small terminal was in front of her, fingers flying across the glow of the makeshift translucent keyboard.

"Oh! Mr. Krios," she said, nodding to him; then, she turned to Samara and stood. "It is an honor to meet a Justicar," was her humble greeting.

Thane laced his hands together behind his back once inside and bowed his head forward slowly in a returned greeting to the information specialist, keeping himself silent so the two like species could converse before Miranda shouldered her way into their conversation.

The much older asari analyzed the more than one-hundred and eight year old—so _very_ young for what she was doing—and gave her a smile in response. "It is nice to meet you as well, Liara. I have heard of your many excavations of Prothean ruins and your theories about their history."

"You have?" she asked, sounding shocked. A Justicar of high stature, such as Samara, reading _her_ work? She hadn't felt this inwardly giddy since she met Shepard.

Samara simply nodded. Miranda stepped in with a cough and gave a slight wave. "Dr. T'soni, we've encountered a bit of a problem. We need your help."

Liara slowly lowered back into her seat and laced her fingers together professionally. Sitting up straight, she said, "I … notice that Shepard isn't with you right now. You were with her when she first arrived on Illium, yes?"

"That's right. Miranda Lawson," she reintroduced, though there had been history between the human and asari, it was unspoken for now. "We were wondering what you knew about Collector agents."

Her eyes clouded over in remorse. "Ah. Unfortunately, I do not have as much information on them as you would imagine. They are quite stealthy, despite what one would imagine. Their techniques rest in substantial strategies that work against both your mind and your usual form of fighting."

"Your mind?" Samara echoed, intrigued.

"Yes. Little, subconscious things that are renowned for hitting the nerves of fear. It is hard to say why exactly they are with the Collectors; they certainty would not get paid, as the Collectors do not have a form of known currency. Perhaps they simply have no other place to go. If the Collectors do not deem you as hostile, they will take you aboard and monitor you—but you are bound to them. It is possible that there is a single entity that controls all of them, letting the sentient beings and the Collectors speak with one another."

There was not much Liara had to share with them but what she could say spoke volumes for Jacob. "Sounds a lot like Reaper indoctrination, to me," he suggested grimly with a glance at Miranda.

"I agree," Thane rumbled sedately. "It is quite similar to Saren's conquest. The similarities between his allegiance with the geth and the agent's association the Collectors … is striking."

The brown-haired woman met Jacob's careful gaze with one that held the same amount of thought. That was most likely, and if Shepard and Joker were dealing with indoctrinated, armed 'soldiers', so to speak, there's no telling what would happen. The few Collectors that didn't get blown up at the base would probably want a very strong kind of hellish revenge.

"It's not surprising that the Reapers will use the same method over again," Miranda said. "They've got an army fleet out there, I don't know why they're settling with something so little like this." She shrugged. "But it worked, didn't it?"

"To think that the Reapers would be able to be as smart as to think of an actual plan …" Samara trailed, hands laced together on her stomach.

Liara added, "Sovereign was a very … enlightened individual, if you could call it that." Heck, she didn't even know if she should refer to the late Reaper as a 'he' or 'it'. "He wasn't anticipating Shepard's strength. Now the rest of them know what she is capable of, especially after you all succeeded in taking out the base …"

"So they know that things have gotten serious, basically. As if it were all just fun before," Miranda snarled, a scowl gracing her pretty features.

"They were also cunning enough to diminish our strength by separating us," the drell put into the conversation, although this fact had already been established. It just helped to put the whole plan in perspective. If the Reapers' aim had not been to completely annihilate organic life, he would have admired the way they subtly overpowered their greatest ally. Hopefully, that would not be the case for much longer if the coordinates the _Normandy_ received were accurate.

Jacob shut his eyes as the information processed , shaking his head as it all clicked together like some giant jigsaw puzzle. "So, what are we supposed to do about any of this?" he asked.

"I do not believe there is anything we can do," Thane was the one to reply first, "other than wait for the _Normandy_'s return." Which would hopefully be bringing Shepard and Joker back with it.

Liara stood once more briefly and cleared her throat. "I apologize that I could not have been more of use. Gathering information on the Collectors is a very dangerous and risky operation. I'm sure that Shepard and the Illusive Man have received more than anybody else has."

"Yes, we-"

"Ms. Lawson, I have reached a complication."

She held back a groan. "What is it, EDI?"

"I have intercepted another message from the same vessel that forwarded the coordinates from earlier. It appears that the last one was false—more specifically, a trap. It would seem that these lead us to somewhere potentially much more dangerous than initially intended. What are your orders?"

Miranda brought a hand up to her mouth and closed her gaping jaw at first. "Is it too late for you to turn the _Normandy_ around and get back to the Relay?"

"It is possible, but there are already obstructions on the intercept-trajectory. They have locked on course and are heading this way as we speak."

Her heart raced. Another Reaper/Collector attack? Just like last time, they weren't there to help. It was the IFF all over again.

A hush fell over Liara's office. It sounded as though the Reapers orchestrating the events did not plan on giving them any chance to surface and catch their breaths before plunging them right back under their suppressive influence. Unfortunately for them, their plans were going swimmingly.

Jacob rebounded and addressed EDI himself. "Do you think you can out pace them? They can't attack if they can't catch up," he urgently pressed the only other idea that came to him, although he did not expect a positive response from the AI.

EDI sounded an alarm throughout the ship the same time she contacted Miranda back. Replying to Jacob, she said, "When the entire squad left on the shuttle, the Collectors were able to keep a hold on our position relentlessly. Preparing weapon warm up sequence and squad collection …"

Tali jolted at the sound of the alarm, knowing that because of the adventure they were currently in the middle of, this would _not_ be good at all. She pushed herself away from the console in front of her and grabbed onto the railing at the top of the stair case. "Jack! Jack, you've got to get up here!"

"Why?" But she was slowly meandering up the stairs.

"The alarms, do you not hear them?" She ushered with her talons. "The ground team on Illium could be in trouble, or we've reached Shepard and Joker's location-"

At EDI's terminal in the center of the engineering deck, the blue globe appeared. "There are too many," she stated grimly. "They are of inadequate size, but there are far too many for my sensors to track each and every one of them." Suddenly, a loud crash filled the room. "There is a breach in port cargo. The Collectors have boarded the ship." The poor AI felt déja vu all over again. There were far too many crew members to keep track of _or_ use the same blast that got rid of them all when it was just herself and Joker.

"So our only option is to kill the sons of bitches?" Jack asked calmly, arms covering her chest. With a nod and shrug, an enthusiastic smirk to boot, she went for the elevator with a curt nod. Tali looked from EDI to the biotic, and then chased after Jack.

Grunt's reptilian eyes followed the slow bend of his neck as observed the Collectors tearing their way into the ship. The _Normandy_'s kinetic barriers had effectively saved his life from the breach in the hull. The normal reaction would have been to be at least momentarily shaken by the prospect of a narrowly avoided death, but Grunt only rumbled in entertainment, "Heh." A pure krogan indeed.

"You picked the wrong door," he jeered maliciously, pulling his shotgun from its mount on the back of his armor. Taking aim on his nearest victim, he fired from the hip and landed a direct hit, then eased the barrel over to line up with the next one and pulled the trigger again. His blood boiled with the familiar exhilaration of battle as the shots echoed through the cargo hold. Instincts that he was only just beginning to truly understand screamed for him to keep mowing down the _Normandy'_s invaders until the attacking fleet was drained dry of its life blood.

But Shepard had coached him against always listening to that blood rage, with someone there to watch his back, it was acceptable. But here he was on his own with hole in the hull that the kinetic barriers did not promise to hold. Grunt picked up a foot and took a step back, vaguely irritated by the amount of control it took to listen to Shepard's logic without her here to give it in the form of an order. Blind firing his next shot, he called in. "What do you want me to do?" he asked no one in particular, since both Shepard and Miranda were absent.

He shrugged his armored shoulders carelessly despite having no one there to see it. Sounding almost hopeful, he added, "Not that I mind just killing them all on my own if you guys aren't up for it."

"Someone's got to stay down there to protect the ship's core. I doubt they're here to try their hand at harvesting the crew again. They're here to take us down then a direct hit to the core is a damn fine way to that. If we lose it, we lose the ship before EDI even has to worry about keeping up with their numbers." It was Garrus' advising voice that answered back as he paced out of the main battery room and into the mess hall where some of the human crewmen were arming themselves. At least some of the commander's team was here to help this time—too bad it wasn't all of them.

EDI had not replied to Miranda since the first time she contacted her, which left the poor XO and the others in stunned silence. She could turn on the universal comm and speak to the rest of the crew, but at most, all it would do is distract them. Her faith was unyielding; it was just a pain in the ass that they had to sit by while the six other squad members struggled with the core crew for survival.

Tali heard Grunt's question, listened along with Garrus, and met up with the turian in the Mess; Jack was by her side, rummaging through her locker to pull out her pistol. As a side thought, she got out Garrus' and Tali's as well, and she handed the weapons to them quickly. Tali equipped her new shotgun. "You know, it's a shame that I wont be able to test her out on you first," she kidded to her turian comrade. The worst thing to do would be keeping a pessimistic behavior.

"Maybe next time you get a new gun then?" Garrus offered encouragingly to Tali's kidding disappointment as she was offered her brand spanking new shotgun by Jack, who was kind enough to equip him as well. It shocked him, her act of consideration, but he did not dare say anything about it.

He really was more comfortable with his sniper rifle, but the _Normandy_ wasn't quite large enough for it be of any use in this fight. Any foes they faced would come at mid and short range so he stuck with his assault rifle, twisting it around in his hands to inspect the clip.

"Grunt, if you need any help-" the quarian started.

"Call me first," Jack interrupted. "I'll be down there scouting anyway. You can't cover the whole lower deck by yourself." Now equipped with a weapon, she went down the elevator again to help with the engineering deck.

The purple-clad quarian brought up her comm link. "EDI, what's the most important thing that needs to be protected?" She and Garrus could team up, just like Grunt and Jack.

"It would be incredibly dangerous if the AI core is invaded. I would advise the rest of the squad to secure the rest of the ship and stay on guard. If there are more breaches, they need to be covered immediately. We cannot afford to be overwhelmed."

"Got it. Come on, Garrus, let's get down there."

Since EDI had already started powering up the weapons systems, both smaller guns and the Thanix cannon were ready to be fired. As the ship couldn't exactly back up, she made the ship jerk around into a quick, half circle so they could drift and get a better angle. The closest ship, the one that had started the breach, got a blast to the center from one of the not as powerful guns.

She knew that the Thanix should be saved for the central assault.

Garrus heeded the advice EDI offered upon Tali's request. He couldn't agree more, the ship's core was down in the engineering deck where Grunt and Jack could protect it and he knew that with a duo like that, the core was in capable hands.

The AI core was waiting just behind the med bay on this very floor, easy for him and Tali to reach quickly and protect. Both of the invaluable cores would have plenty of cover and he clung to the comfort that brought him. As long as they protected the vital systems inside EDI could handle maneuvering them safely through the attacking fleet. Without wasting time for a response, he followed after the quarian to their designated spot.

The AI core held everything that it usually did: the ever-so obvious EDI core, the ducts, and their geth, Legion. The quarian still didn't care for it that much, but they were a team, and he proved himself by fighting with them in the suicide mission. Besides that, he hadn't gone through any more of her stuff or scanned anything that might be regrettable later.

She entered and faced the exit, backing up against the core and flicking one look at Legion, shotgun locked in her steady grip of both hands.

"Is our assistance required?" he asked upon hearing the quiet clamber and destruction from the lower deck.

"Do you know what has been going on in the last while?"

"Yes. Collectors have boarded the ship. Shepard-Commander and the pilot are not here. We are awaiting further orders." Tali exchanged a look with Garrus, which was shielded by her mask, but it held evident question.

She paused. "Stay with us for now. This and the drive core are the most important places on the ship; we can't have the Collectors getting to either of them."

Garrus took a defensive stand in front of the core alongside the quarian and exchanged guarded glances with her when she looked up at him. He angled his head just a bit, in an unspoken acknowledgment to her questioning of their newest crewvmate. Legion had watched his back on the Collector base just as faithfully as the female alien next to him, but the geth still made him uncomfortable at times.

"Well, between the three of us no collector should stand a chance in here." In spite of his convictions, he tried to make Legion feel like a more welcomed part of the team. Shepard thought he was an asset, and she had never been wrong so far, so it was all he could do to try. The turian cradled the assault rifle in his three fingered hands and trained it at the door, just in case they decided to use the conventional way in.

After having his question answered, Grunt ignored any further radio chatter to focus on his assignment, leaving it up to the rest of them to pick their own fights. He took another step back as a more Collectors piled into the cramped storage room and managed to get a few shots off at him. Between a thick hide and his armor the damage was minimal, especially compared to the way he blasted through his attackers. More rounds sounded off one after the other as the krogan backed slowly out of the cramped room for a more open battleground.

He looked over at the humming elevator which would eventually be bringing down his biotic back-up. It suited him, if he was going to have to fight with someone he preferred Jack. She had become his favorite crew mate the day Shepard took him on the mission to recruit her and she had blown the hole of purgatory to hell and back.

Grunt ejected the thermal clip from his shotgun, listing to the acknowledging click as a new clip replaced it. He raised the weapon again and faced the cargo door, waiting for the enemy to funnel out and right into his cross hairs, or better yet, close enough for him to charge.

Jack held onto the railing of the stairs and swung herself down into her hidey-hole, carefully peering around. One hand had her pistol, the other placed in front of her with all fingers spread, glowing with biotics.

"Grunt, any Collectors get by so far?" The red flashing lights momentarily blocked out her eyesight.

When an explosion shook the deck, she fell against the rim in her bed and knew she would get a bruise. Quickly steadying herself, she realized that the ships outside were now firing smaller attacks, just like EDI had done with the _Normandy_. Because the SR-2 was so heavily upgraded from the suicide mission, the only damage it did was shake the ship.

"No," Grunt growled back at Jack. "One got close, but it died before it could reach anything important. I made sure of it."

A Collector suddenly dashed in front of him, too quickly for his shotgun to be of any use. He lowered it to his side momentarily and opened his jaws, letting out a battle cry as he stomped after it but a unexpected jostling of the ship picked him up off his feet and tossed him in the opposite direction, sending the fleeting collector flying somewhere out of reach.

"Argh," the krogan groaned and staggered back to his feet, tossing his head left to right in search of his now missing target. "Where'd it go?"

EDI chimed in with apparent despair, "The Collectors are attempting to pry through the airlock." As Tali, Garrus, and Legion were all on deck three, Jack and Grunt on deck four, it'd be up to Mordin and the rest of the core crew to take care of that. "I am maintaining a seal, but it will not last for long." The AI did a slight, slow nose dive with the ship and pulled upwards towards the Collector ship that was so frequently gunning at them. She fired a short burst of the Thanix to send it flying backwards.

"Not good. Collectors have almost breached. Preparing to hold them off," Mordin reported in a swift breath as he rallied with the rest of the human crew around the galaxy map, all eyes and guns focused on the point of attack EDI had highlighted for them. The scientist reaffirmed the hold on his hand cannon, daring a sharp intake of air through his nostrils as he watched the airlock weaken. If the kinetic barriers around the ship didn't hold it would not matter that they were being boarded. They would all die instantly. Grim, but he had no qualms about facing facts.

Jack heard the suspicious clicking of insect-like legs, the occasional flutter of wings. She knew that there was at least one Collector trying to sneak its way in. She crawled up the stairs like a wildcat and barred her teeth in a smirk. It was just on its way through the left side of the entrance to Tali's station; more importantly, the room with the apple of their eye: the drive core.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" she taunted in a honey-like voice. Maybe it was just her bragging instincts, but she could have sworn the thing looked almost nervous.

"Raagh!" Immediately, she pushed both hands forward and sent the thing tumbling back with a biotic throw. She stalked up to it and held the gun to its chest, relentlessly and not-hesitantly at all landing the bullets in the place where she hoped was its heart. If it even had one. Hell, she didn't know, it was dead, and that was all that mattered. Mordin was the one that learned about that kinda shit, not her.

The convict placed a hand on her hip and kicked it out of the pathway with her foot. "Don't worry, I got the straggler," she reassured the krogan.

* * *

There were more than just a few Collectors in the same, outer room as the commander, but she wasn't having a problem fending them off. She had to start getting creative, like using overload on an opening door with a Collector passing through. It'd start to break down and smash the thing, just like Joker had did earlier. As overload didn't do much initially on these types of enemies, her surroundings were just going to have to provide some new examples.

Her body moved like a dance, dodging and staying as far away from them as possible. Her technique was distance, but she could handle a bit of CQC if she had to. Preferring the former, she sent out her drone and held the hand cannon in one hand, sub machine gun in the other.

If only she had been in a higher vantage point or somewhere much farther, she could snipe them while they were distracted with the drone. Unfortunately, she'd have to make due with what she had.

The atmosphere was quickly becoming overwhelming. What started as stragglers became something that made her think there were a few more Collectors on board than they thought. The numbers surely were slimming in other places (where else could they be coming from?), but gathering up in this room wasn't helping her too much.

"I don't think so, pal." When one had nearly slipped past her and into Joker's vicinity, she took a risk and grabbed the thing by its wing, rammed it with her elbow made of steel, and had the particle beam singe it to a crisp while it struggled on the ground.

From the immense amount of damage she had taken, she received multiple burns and wounds, but they weren't as bad as the direct puncture from before.

There was a break in the storm, and that's when she slid back into the cockpit and slid down to the floor, arms back as she took a deep breath. "There are more, I'm sure. But since I'm here, just get us to the _Normandy_ as quickly as possible." The signal to go. "I wont be much help at firing with the ship, so I'll just keep fighting back here."

Jeff's hand swiped across one of the hexagon shaped panels, adjusting something in their course when Shepard clamored into the safety of the cockpit. He could only afford to spare her a short glance before his gaze flickered back to the controls and what his hands were doing. That one look told him enough though, she was hanging in there but the battle was beating her up.

"I'm going as fast as she can." He argued with her subtle command, "This ship is about twice the mass of even the SR-2. I would jump us but I don't know how long it would take to reroute power back into the drive core. We need to save that for when we get closer to the _Normandy_. That way we can just jump into the battle before they have time to realize we're coming."

He leaned forward in his seat, trying to somehow will the ship to go faster with his own body. "I can't activate that cloaking device they used back at the fueling station either. The power for it comes from the same place as the drive core. So we can either jump or go invisible. We can't do one after the other. The ship just doesn't have enough power for that."

It was the one and only time he wished the Collectors had been just a little more advanced in their technology, but he was sure a wish like that would come back to bite him later. "And here I was thinking they had it all figured out. They've certainly had everything they need to kick our asses today."

Another spared look pulled his eyes from the holo-screens to the worn Shepard on the ground as he strained, "I just need a little more time. Once we pass through the Mass Relay I can activate the drive core and get us there instantly."

"Right, I know, sorry," the commander apologized, rubbing her singed arm. Listening to his explanation of their dilemma, she said, "Go with stealth instead of the jump. I'm still in tact enough to keep holding off any more enemies that get near by, so as long as we creep up and make _sure_ our aim is perfect." She added, "They can handle it, Joker. We've got all the proper materials and upgraded." Unlike the last _Normandy_, which was completely unprepared for the fight.

His eyes widened the second she had finished speaking and a new slew of words quickly left his mouth behind them. "Watch it!"

Behind her, the batarian responsible for holding Joker at gunpoint earlier that day cursed darkly when the pilot called him out. He had observed Shepard's tactics with the Collectors and waited in cover for the best chance to strike at short range, since she seemed to favor the opposite. That did not mean she was any less skilled at it, as he was grimly reminded when he walked over the charred, dismembered limb of the Collector she had kept from approaching the cockpit just moments ago. He had hoped an element of surprise would spare him the same fate.

He gripped the shotgun he had taken off one of the many bodies Shepard left in her wake and raised it to take aim at the back of her armor just between the shoulder blades. At this range he was confident he could shatter her shields and perhaps even stun her to give himself an upper hand.

At his exclamation, she jerked her head around fast enough to get whiplash, but that was the least of her pain. She saw the batarian's several eyes and satisfied face when she felt the impact like a deathly slap to the back. The reason for her rest was to let her shields regenerate, but because they were weakening, the shotgun blast was enough for her to knock the air out of her and send her into a short paralyzed state.

Her eyes blurred but she grumbled out something that was hard to hear. She pushed herself up and felt her limbs cracking in opposition as she did so; the gunshot merely took out her shields and hit hard enough to make contact with her skin, but it wasn't deep as the rifle from before.

Quickly, she rammed her hand on top of her other arm (covered with the omni-tool), lifted her arm up, and used an overload to take out the captor's shields with a shock.

The batarian lurched back when he realized what Shepard was doing but his poor reaction time was punished with a violent shock that ravaged his body. His fingers clamped and loosened over the shotgun as the impact rocked him, eventually causing him to loose his grip on the short range weapon entirely.

When he regained control of his legs he scurried away from the cockpit and took cover behind the nearest solid object he could find, which was the wall just outside the room that housed the cockpit. Regaining his breath, he tightly squeezed all of his eyes shut as he willed his body to regain sensation. He held out his hand in front of him and made a fist a couple of times to test the dexterity of his fingers, then reached for his own pistol and pressed his back against the wall as he listened to the banter between commander and pilot. He had to time this just right, Shepard wouldn't last much longer and the pilot was too preoccupied to pose a threat. Control of the ship was right there at his fingertips and he could not miss this chance.

Unfortunately, she felt her eyes stinging and focus blurring. She wouldn't faint, not yet, but she was pretty damned close, and would do so if she didn't have the willpower to protect her pilot. She nearly threw the sub machine gun at Joker, just so he'd have something to use to fend himself off if he had to. Hand canon still with her, she prepared herself, still lying on the floor, with shaking hands pointed at the batarian's hiding spot. Waiting.

"... Actually, Joker ... go with the jump." 'Cause slow and steady stealth wasn't gonna cut it right now.

Before the attack, Jeff had given her a doubtful look as she favored spending their reserved energy on stealth rather than a jump once they go close enough. She was right, the _Normandy_ and her crew were more fit to the challenge than anyone else in the entire galaxy, he had no doubt of that. Even if some of the less friendly crew made him nervous they were the best of the best with a ship that he could proudly say matched their skill. However, he was hesitant to comply. It was not often that he found himself questioning Shepard's commands, but this was one of those times. The battle outside was bearing down hard and fast and she had taken a lot of punishment already. Time seemed like their best friend right now, plus, he could hit whatever he had to. He was certain of it.

He had never gotten the chance to really process it all himself, the batarian's arrival having robbed him completely of his train of thought and all that followed happened so quickly. His throat tightened when the shotgun fired and Shepard's body jolted at the brutal hit.

The encounter with their captor was all it took for Shepard to change her mind, the weak waver in her voice granting Jeff with new energy as adrenaline coursed through him, he twisted around in his seat and began furiously clawing the holograms in front of him. "Don't worry about my aim, Shepard." He offered the only encouragement he could and vowed, "I'll hit every damn one of them, just hold on! We're reaching the relay now."

As they approached the aforementioned relay he dialed into it quickly, driving the ship along side it as the Prothean structure spun on it's axis with increasing speed. A blinding light swallowed the ship whole, spilling in through the bay windows and flooding the ship with light. A second later and they had been slung through the galaxy. Jeff kept the momentum going as they came out of it and began to build power for their jump.

"Activating the drive core," Jeff reported with tension, spreading his hands across the controls in preparation of whatever lay on the other side of their fall through space. He had to clear this out quickly for the sake of the _Normandy_ and the ailing commander behind him who he was currently powerless to help in any other way, the fact ate away at him from the inside out but he tried not to let that distract him.

At hearing this, the Batarian readied himself behind the wall.

In a sudden vacuum the ship lurched forward, a sensation that could be physically felt even inside the steadiest of ships. When the heart-beat long jump was complete they exploded into the middle of the battle that had threatened to over whelm the _Normandy_.

A swipe of his hand and Jeff narrowly avoided colliding head on with a part of the fleet; his brow creased in concentration as the swung the vessel around to face a line of the smaller collector ships. His hand twitched over the controls he had earlier identified as a weapon through a quick crash course on the way here, and with a pull back at the hologram a powerful beam barreled forth from the cannons at the bow of the ship. The beam pierced through the line of ships like a space-aged javelin before dissipating, causing multiple implosions among them.

To evade an incoming attack the helmsman lifted the ship as quickly as it would obey, tilting in forward and rotating slowly to the left in the process to follow after the craft that had attempted to ram into them in a very Kamikaze move. Granting their wish for death, Jeff opened fire again, sweeping the beam over a collection of ships while glided to shook down multiple opponents once again.

"EDI! Drop the _Normandy_ now! I can't take out the Collectors by the airlock. It'll blow you guys to hell too if you're that close," he yelled once he had established a connection. The pilot ducked instinctively when gunshots fired behind him. Unharmed but panicked, he looked over to see the batarian's hand wrapped around the corner of the cockpit entrance, blind firing at an angle in an effort to hit Shepard.

Unable to take his eyes off the battle in front of him for any extended amount of time, he tore his eyes away without the chance to check on the Commander. "Shepard? Talk to me!" he pleaded through tightly clenched teeth, hoping the batrain's cowardly shots had missed their mark.

When EDI heard the sound of Joker's voice, she said with more relieved surprise than an AI would normally have, "Jeff. You are alright."

"Yeah, I'm okay but Shepard's on her last leg. We need to make this quick," Jeff replied promptly to the AI's spoken solace. In time, it would be funny to reflect on how worried she sounded, but he had heard nothing from the commander since he called out to her.

He couldn't fight it; he leaned to the side of his chair and twisted his head around for a brief second, relief swept over him when he was rewarded with the sight of Shepard staggering to the door. Yes, she was beat to hell, but she was alive. Invigorated, Jeff turned back in his seat and celebrated by ripping apart a nearby collector vessel that had begun to take aim on them while he wasn't watching.

She followed to his orders but could not compute why Shepard was not giving them instead. "Yes, of course."

One normal Collector pried the door open with its claw-like flanges, a few behind it. One of them was a Scion, and if Shepard were here, she'd be telling Mordin to get the hell out of the way. They were her least favorite kind, just because it took a trio to take it down. Two husks were groaning, odd hands stretching through the crack of the door. If Mordin took the opportunity, he'd be able to take down at least the husks.

A few moments later, EDI said, "Dr. Solus, I advise you to please back away from the airlock." She had taken Joker's order and waited a brief pause for the doctor to do so before she nearly slammed the _Normandy_ to the side so she could shake the enemies off.

On the second deck, Mordin found himself preoccupied with like company. From a crouched position he leaned around from behind what little cover there was to be had behind the galaxy map and fired composedly at each normal husk until both had fallen.

Drawing himself back into cover he reached to his forearm and activated his Omni-tool. Standing up to his full height he turned on his feet and extended a hand outward in the direction of the bothersome Sicon and mirrored the skill that had been constantly saving Shepard since her abduction. A blast a fire shot forth at the lumbering creature, Mordin did not expect to take it down but he could at least whittle away at the armor that served as its lifeline.

He picked his head up and glanced around the ship as EDI politely advised him and the crew to step away. "Understood," he replied, trusting the AI's judgment. "Falling back."

Shepard was not used to back damage. Normally, in battle, she would stay so far away that she could variably keep an eye on the other two squad mates with her, sniping, sending out drones, a long-ranged incinerate, taking out shields, etc. The rooms behind her were always empty and littered with corpses, thanks to them. Her shields would be up, she'd be in tip-top shape, and the other two would make sure that she was never flanked.

It was flawless.

Now all she had to do … "Time to get rid of this bastard."

The jump of the ship had her jerk forwards towards the opposition, which she didn't mind too much—less walking for her. She had faith that they were now in the metaphorical sky-arena.

Turbulence, however, wasn't exactly her best friend. Her boots clung to the surface of the ground but her balance wasn't as firm as it usually was. She had no cover to crouch behind and do her thing. But damn it, she wasn't powerless. When she fell again, she grabbed onto the door with her left hand and, unwavering, took the four pistol shots that the batarian had fired; one that didn't hurt thanks to her shoulder guards, another that dented her neck plate but did not hit _her_, but the last two hit the midsection of her firing arm and her less-protected stomach again, this time on the opposite side. Chakwas was not going to be pleased.

She knew that when she pulled the trigger, the pressure would hurt like hell. But she did it anyway, simultaneously releasing an incinerate that was as fiery as the passion she always held.

Even for his extended sight, blessed to him through his multitude of eyes there was no way the batarian saw what was coming. A yodel of agony escaped him, the pistol dropping from his hand as he fell away from his cover, clutching the side of his face that had just been devoured by Shepard's flames. The flare of super heated air made his lungs burn more painfully with every breath, and he could not stop his stomach from lurching at the overbearing smell of burning flesh.

The scream turned to a bloody gurgle when the hand cannon put a bullet in his gut at point blank range. Gasping and wheezing in the attempt to draw air into his seared lungs the alien half fell half clamored away from the cockpit to escape into the depths of the ship. From what Joker had heard, he didn't expect the guy to make it far.

Instead of resting again (because that worked out so wonderfully before), Shepard hobbled to Joker and put on a bleary smile. "I ain't dead yet. What's the ship status? We can take out the rest of them, can't we?" She peered at the _Normandy_ and saw that they were doing relatively okay; the breaches could be fixed.

Jeff snatched a sideways glance at her when she convinced her broken body to approach the chair. "Hell yeah, Shepard," he replied enthusiastically. He spoke with obvious tones of relief dancing in his voice, managing a smile that hardened with determination as he focused back on the _Normandy_ "Just leave the rest to me."

His smile spread further over his bearded face in appreciation as he watched the _Normandy_ dive aggressively, sending the collectors hurdling in its wake. "Atta girl, EDI." He pushed their ship forward to hone in on their prey which had conveniently grouped together as a result of their attempts to funnel into the SR-2.

Jeff came close to abusing the unfamiliar ship as he pressed it forward at top sped, daring closer and closer until it looked as though they were going to plow right into the band of collector vessels . At the last minute, one of his hand toyed with the controls to make the ship veer to the right in a sharp turn, the other reached across the opposite side of the control board to summon his attack.

"Damn," Shepard commented nicely, watching the show. As a new habit, she was constantly looking back at the doors and all around her back. If she continued this on other missions, it'd probably affect her style. "I _am_ lucky to have you as my pilot. I don't know anybody else who could pull that off."

With his head rested against the back of the chair he rolled it up to study her with an analytical look at her praise. "I've been telling you that ever since we met!" His ego was clearly consuming the glowing review in spite of his words, a sly smile promised as much.

Another weapon dropped from the underneath the ship's stern. It began drawing power in the midst of their turn then released an orb of collected energy that expanded before capturing the group in a wave of destruction as it imploded upon itself. All the while, Jeff had already taken them out of range and watched the carnage with frivolous satisfaction. "Oh, man. We have **_got_** to get one of these."

* * *

Jack, now with nothing else to do, stayed near Tali's post and paced along the walkway. The drive core wasn't flashing or anything, still shining brightly, so she assumed that that was a good thing and the Collectors haven't gotten to it/messed with it yet.

She jumped up onto the railing and peered up at it, unfazed by the almost blinding light. When she squinted upon seeing a darker obtrusion, a very _small_ something, she stood up on the railing to get a better look. "What the hell?" she exclaimed, realizing that it was one of the seekers. Just a single one. It was resting on top of the drive core, and it was probably extracting information or doing something else unbelievably inconvenient.

Without a pause, she put up a barrier (specifically designed with Mordin's countermeasure) and used a biotic pull to bring it over.

When it got close by force, it just fluttered out of Jack's reach and towards the breach again.

"A-agh, wait a minute! Get the hell back over here!" she shouted, chasing after it.

Glad that Joker was okay and Shepard was still breathing, EDI continued her maneuvering so they wouldn't get hit by whatever clever plan the pilot would come up with to save their asses. As she had told the commander before, she and Jeff worked together a lot better than they did separately. However, since they knew both of their techniques, it was easy to move around and not take the negative heat.

"All hostiles are off the ship," she reported to the crew. Except for that one damned seeker, which wasn't a big enough heat emission for her to detect it.

Grunt began pounding his way up the stairs, sloshing through the mess that testified the battle that had taken place. It had been … fun, but too short lived for his tastes. Although he reasoned with himself that an altercation _off_ the _Normandy_ would have been more appropriate. Not to mention a much better fight; the engineering deck was cramped enough without Collectors and Husks filling it up until there was no leg room left. There was no challenge in waiting for the next enemy to accidentally amble in front of the barrel.

At the top of the stair case he found himself sharing a level with Jack, who looked preoccupied with snatching an invisible enemy from the air. "What are you doing?" he rumbled in low tones, his voice back to a manageable growl as opposed to his battle included roars he had previously been emitting.

His pupil's contracted in the light of the core and a small black object flew in front of the illuminated back drop, making its presence known to him. He grunted in recognition and took a swing at the seeker as it floated past him but just narrowly missed it.

"The damned thing wont die!" Jack protested, flailing her arm like a cat. The thing would _eventually _die, she'd be sure if it. If she had to spend a few hours down here, she'd do it. Not that she was very patient, but she had the determination, which sort of balanced her negative quality.

They faced the swarms before, but she realized slowly that they were never able to attack them. Put up a biotic barrier to keep them away, use the counter-measure, but never attack them.

"Hey! Grunt," she started uneasily. "What if these things can't die?"

She didn't know for sure, because she hadn't _actually_ touched it yet; though, it was a strong possibility. They probably either didn't die or couldn't be messed with or something else undeniably frustrating. Jack did not like to know that something was stronger than her.

Grunt lacked the agility to chase after the creature skimming the air just out of Jack's reach but he continued to claw for it every time it came near, but it always fell just beyond stretch of his arm. It was growing increasingly annoying and jack's premonition lit the fuse and set the krogan off.

"There is nothing I can't kill," he argued strictly with her, narrowing his eyes as the annoyance fluttered mockingly back in his direction. Determined to prove his point, he waited for it to draw near before slamming his skull forward and colliding into the seeker with the hardened, but still immature, crest of bone crowning his head.

He was certain he had felt the diminutive impact of the creature's body and lifted one of his feet, ready to crush the surely grounded menace under its weight. His eyes scanned the floor hungrily but could never find his tiny victim until a buzzing sound went by his head seconds later as the insect rebounded and flew past unaffected.

Jack was about to lunge at the flying creature once more until she stopped in her tracks. "Wait. Wait, Mordin had that one that he kept in a jar or some shit so he could experiment on it and get that countermeasure, right? Maybe … maybe he somehow tamed and strengthened the little piss." She narrowed her eyes at it; its only response was to flutter around her gracefully.

She put a hand up to her face and sighed. "I swear … Ehh, I'll keep an eye on the thing while everything settles down. Then Mordin can explain how or why the hell he let it loose."

* * *

Shepard forced back the urge to slink down again, and she leaned against the helmsman's chair and held an arm out conversationally. "Sure, I'll check the black markets, keywords: deathly Collector technology weapon. See what comes up, put a few credits on layaway. It'll be a nice birthday present for you, I'd say." Not wanting to bring down his recently-uplifting mood, she kept the sentient that if this one ship had one, the rest (and the Reapers) were bound to as well ... probably stronger when mentioning the latter.

His focus was dedicated to the controls again. "Well, you're right, my birthday _is_ coming up soon …" he agreed with fabricated innocence in his voice_._

"Well, I'll keep 'Reaper technology' at the top of the list when I'm mulling over what to get you." She gave a short laugh. "Are you sure you're not the Shadow Broker or something? Wanting this kinda tech, your nickname rhymes with Broker, you're pretty buff for an allegedly crippled guy, and I'm sure my death was 'all apart of the plan'." She lifted her hands up enough to use air quotes, one of her favorite gestures after she got a kick out of the turian councilor using it (even if _when_ he used it was frustrating).

"Oh, no!" His tone masqueraded away from its usual pitch to play along with her suggestion, "My evil plans have been found out by Commander Shepard!" Jeff snorted and shook his head to dismiss the act, "Pftt, I don't get paid anywhere _near_ enough to piss that many people off on a daily basis."

"Are you implying that you need a raise, Mr. Moreau?"

Leaning into the back of the seat, still trying hard not to think about the Collector that sat in it before him (a shower was in order the next chance he got), he grinned in her direction and shrugged casually, shaking his head. "But look at you, hitting on the pilot." No way in hell he was letting that buff comment go without acknowledgment. Sarcastically falling in line since the set up had practically built itself, he gestured a hand around the craft before asking, "So, you come here often?"

"Yes, all the time, actually. Spending my leave with Collectors has that edgy vacation-like feel." She winked. "I wouldn't call it that, though. That's what EDI does, isn't it? I'm sure you'd rather have AI love; it's programmed to never cheat on you."

The pale glimmer of her omni-tool caught the helmsman's eye, then its low hum demanded his ears while it gathered data from the console. "Don't forget to pick up that Prothean program," he advised more seriously, "it was too heavily encrypted for a human being to get through, but I want to take a look at it with EDI and see what it's all about. And if it's crap we can sell it to some scholar and get some credits out of it. It's a win-win."

She followed his advice and started to decrypt the Prothean data. Her eyebrows lifted up in admiration at the series of explosions filling up the view. They both had their own way of winning. This was his.

The velvet sky was slowly clearing, giving them sight of the mostly-perfect _Normandy_. "Take her in slowly. How are we supposed to board, anyway?" She shifted slightly and bit her lip at the grinding pain she felt in her side. Dr. Chakwas' stiff hospital beds sounded like a godsend right now.

Now that she thought about it, it was something completely unmentioned.

"There's always the smaller starcrafts. I could go down and clear them out-" Even if there were no Collectors, there were still dead human bodies, "-and we can go back, destroy this ship, take a breath and pretend that there isn't an army of Reapers out there still."

Without a constant barrage of enemy fire blasting and threatening to close the force of space in on them, Jeff spared Shepard a longer glance and took in just how badly the Collectors and their batarian friend had torn her apart. The smile on his face wavered, but did not vanish entirely. It even grew back a little when she began to consider a return venture to the starships on the hangar, making him shake his head in slow disbelieving but amused swings.

"No offense, Commander, but I don't think you'd make it down there." He skimmed through a holo-display his hand had been resting near and drummed a finger against the bottom it repeatedly until he found what he was looking for.

Pride slightly hurt, she attempted to shrug. "Ain't nothing I can't do. But you're right, I suppose. We don't need this ship itself, do we? I don't exactly want it to exist any longer. That includes the starships. Not after our little adventure."

"Here, I thought so," he approvingly announced his find. "Fleet ships like this typically have a docking ramp. That way they can exchange crew in deep space like this. You don't see it a lot anymore, but this ship felt dated so I expected it to have one. All we've got to do is establish connection to the _Normandy_, let the kinetic barriers form us a walk way, and do our little strut down the catwalk. Simple as that, and I can disengage it from on board the _Normandy. __Then_ you can decide what you want to do with this ship."

Not even needing the command to do so, he pulled them in slowly alongside the battered but still striving _Normandy_. Repairs would be a must before they did any galaxy-saving and he shuddered to think how much work it was going to be to limp her into the nearest port, everything was going to be entirely out of whack but at least he was bringing something back this time. Things had not gone so well in the past.

After some collaboration with EDI, he successfully extended and connected the ramp to the _Normandy_'s airlock. As promised, the translucent pale blue glow of a barrier shrouded the extended metal piece to make it safe for them to venture out onto. Now, the only thing that kept them from their ship and crew was a short walk.

Noticing that the airlock was on this deck, and they wouldn't have to go farther than necessary, Shepard started her less than leveled walk over to it.

The doorway slid open approvingly, and she felt the need to look behind her again (thanks to the new paranoia). "I'll test it out first," she said to Joker, who she assumed would be behind her soon. "Just in case this is another trap, and it falls through or something."

Thank goodness, it wasn't, so she nodded in relief and started to hobble across. The painful process of her skin fixing itself was making her stagger, so she gestured for the pilot so she could use his shoulder or something.

Jeff watched her throw herself out onto the walkway as a guinea pig in front of him with a slight twist in his gut; he had half expected it to fall out from under her after, with the way the rest of their day had gone, but his apprehension was short lived and he limped out to meet her when beckoned to do so.

Carefully, he laced one of her arms over his shoulders to provide some the commander with some stability. To balance himself as well as her, he wrapped an arm around behind her, making sure not to press against any injured parts of her body. The walk would not be a comfortable one, but he could at least do her the favor of not making it worse. With a naturally matching gait he hobbled alongside her towards the waiting _Normandy_.

Mordin was there to meet them at the airlock, wearing one of his peculiar smiles. The minute they stepped aboard he relived Jeff of the weight and offered Shepard considerably more support than her pilot could. "Welcome back," he greeted them complacently. "Shepard. You will be glad to know that the medical bay suffered no damage."

The trip across wasn't as long as she expected, thankfully, and felt better once Mordin was there to help her now. The commander didn't like putting unnecessary weight on Joker, as it'd only strain him as well.

At the news of the unharmed med-bay, her lips curled into a smile. "It's like you read my mind."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note:** By the way, the story's far from over. _

* * *

"EDI, give that ship what it deserves. Then take us into Illium."

"Yes, Shepard. Gladly."

The second he stepped into the ___Normandy_, Jeff felt ___right_ again. It was home in every sense of the word, since Earth didn't have much to offer him or any other planet for that matter. He listened to the docking bay give a satisfying click as the Normandy disengaged the last tether they had with the collector ship that had been their personal hell for the past few hours—or however long they had been there.

In his mind, Jeff hoped witnessing that would help cut back on how often the memories would visit him in his sleep, but he knew that paranoia would craft it all back into perfect fashion while reminding him that this ship was one of many.

The craft vanished from the universe forever at Shepard's command; the rataplanning of the explosion EDI so faithfully delivered assured it. In his mind, Jeff hoped witnessing that would help cut back on how often the memories would visit him in his sleep but he knew that paranoia would craft it all back into perfect fashion while reminding him that this ship was one of many.

The commander let out a sigh of relief at the sounds of wonderful explosions in their wake. Knowing that Joker would want to either go take a seat in his cherished chair or take a soothing shower, she stepped in first and said, "Joker, get to the med bay, just to get a check-up." Sure, he looked physically fine, but who knew what had happened? Before he could even think of retorting, she tacked on with harsh consideration and worry, "That's an ___order_." She ventured off, or would have, if not for Mordin at her side and the few bloody shots that she had acquired. So she had to take it slow.

Tali was on her way up to the second deck so she could meet her best friend, hoping that she was okay. She saw Mordin first, then Joker, then her beloved commander, and the series of fire blasts next to them. She grinned underneath her mask and stood by for the watch. "That sounded like something you wont want to disobey."

He detached himself from the thought and took one step forward towards the solace that was the showers, that one miserable step was as far as he got when Shepard made her suggestion. His jaw unhinged in preparation to protest but snapped shut when her advice turned into an order. There was no sympathy to be found in his favorite alien crew mate, either.

"Yeah, I caught that when she bared her fangs," he assured dryly then reluctantly began to follow behind the salarian helping his wounded commander to the same destination.

The trip to the medical bay was long and tiring for the worn-out commander. She felt a new found rejuvenation, however, when she was finally inside. Chakwas thundered her with questions immediately.

"It's alright, doc, it's just the standard procedure. Already half-healing wounds over the bullets and possible a fractured back bone."

It was almost worth it to see Chakwas drill Shepard relentlessly about her injuries and just how much the inquiry exasperated the commander. At least he was getting some sort of revenge. Listening to their banter, Jeff backed up to one of the spare examination tables/beds and rested his hands against its surface. He pushed himself up with the newly found leverage and took a seat on the table while he waited his turn since the gravity of Shepard's condition commanded the doctor's attention first. He wouldn't argue that but it did mean more time wasted before he could wash away the creeps he got out of sharing a chair with a collector.

Speaking of the creeps—Jeff peered tentatively over to the automatic doors leading into the AI core. He wished Shepard had put Legion somewhere else on the ship, inexplicably defensive of EDI's core. No matter what the commander said about it or what the geth did to prove its loyalty, he did not like having it on board. Assassins, Justicars, krogans, crazy biotic killers, he could handle all of that … but a geth crossed the line.

"Would you like me to try what we did before? Give you a sedative and take the skin off to remove the entrance shots?" Shepard shuddered at the memory, shaking her head negatively. Chakwas chuckled. "At this rate, we could hold up a metal-detector to you and find something in every limb. You do know there will be several scars, yes?"

Shepard shrugged and slunk to one of the beds, then slid up on top. "Yeah, well, just focus on omni-gel application and my poor back. I know there'll be scars, but I've already got dozens."

"According to Garrus, scars are sexy. So, don't worry. I think you'll still have an admirer, Commander. Hell, he'll probably even approve of you adding to the collection," Jeff jeered, hoping that he would be able to convince Shepard to let him go if he became an annoyance to her. Some part of him knew better than to expect that kind of psychology to work on her so he fell back on a more forward complaint instead.

"Don't need no admirers," Shepard grumbled, successfully annoyed—Joker's goal. Chakwas was testing each one of her body parts, first arms and legs, then her midsection. Her torso, both front and back, was what had taken the most damage, so she had to stand up again and take off her armor (slowly but surely) so Chakwas could apply medi-gel to the front wound before taking care of the other side. She kept on her tank top and jumpsuit-like pants, the normal apparel she wore underneath the armor at all times.

"Yeah, of course you don't," Jeff replied in an unimpressed mutter to Shepard's proclaimed independence, only taking pride in the fact that his picking and prodding did have the affect he wanted judging by the slight growl in her tone.

The commander smirked and let his jesting poke go by. "'Sides, I like to think that he and Tali will get together some day. They've been friends since the SR-1, so why not? With that kind of time, things tend to happen."

In the memories she had, she always kidded with Tali about the turian. Tali would complain about fraternization, but as this was a Cerberus vessel, things weren't as tough.

"And stop trying to worm your way out of an examination," she tacked on as a warning, jutting her index finger in his direction.

"Nothing's broken," he argued, "and I have pills for fractures. EDI never lets me forget to take them either. Trust me."

Chakwas nodded. "Even if you have the pills for it, Jeff, they still need to be examined every once in a while to see if they are doing any permanent damage; especially the stress fractures, which you're bound to have after that."

Plans worked about as well as he expected them to. Rather than earning his freedom, he got a lecture about who she saw Garrus with and, even if he didn't care to chat rumors, he subconsciously agreed. The two aliens seemed to subliminally flirt with one another when the chance presented itself.

Shepard relaxed slightly once the medi-gel worked its charm on her bloodied wounds. Her naked forearm was practically screaming at the sensation, as it burned quite a bit. Tender places such as that arm was always hit. Enemies tended to go there because they _knew_ she'd be at a disadvantage (along with the torso area).

The doctor let up on Shepard to let the gel do its thing and moved over to Joker. She did the same routine as she did with the commanding officer, only a bit more careful with his legs. "It seems to me that you're just fine. The commander did a good job of keeping you safe," she appraised, observing carefully. She tipped his shoulder forward so she could examine his back and put pressure on it, but felt nothing wrong there either.

Defeated, Joker spent what was left of his wait quietly. Shepard wasn't having it any other way and he knew a losing battle when he saw one, so he waved his metaphoric white flag an accepted his coming exam. It came a lot quicker than he expected. He complied with all of Chakwas' poking a prodding for the sake of avoiding a tongue lashing from Shepard while the medi-gel tended to the commander's ills and pains.

When the doctor pulled away, she sent him a knowing smile. "Don't mention anything about Shepard getting too worked up; you do the same after nearly every important mission."

The smallest flicker of guilt tugged at his conscience when the doctor pointed out what a splendid job Shepard had done as literally using herself as a shield to ensure his safety. He did his best to ignore that feeling though, it was what Shepard did for all of her crew. He had just started to agree when Chakwas finished checking his back, but the reply caught when she mentioned his private habit of keeping an eye on the Commander's health. That abnormal but familiar feeling of embarrassment creeping back up on him for the second time today.

He had already braced himself for a course about double standards from Shepard, but thanks in part to her injuries it never came and he let a quiet sigh escape him. Better yet, he was dismissed entirely. Not to the showers but there was plenty of time for that once they docked at Illium and flying the ship was a much better use of his time than waiting around here.

The commander raised an eyebrow but otherwise said nothing. She crawled up onto the bed again so she could lie on her stomach, so Chakwas could wrap it up or apply some sort of material like medi-gel, only stronger. "I hope I don't have to get a pole up my back or something."

"Wont be necessary," she said, going back to Shepard. "Just time and a heavy wrap. Jeff, you're free to go, unless the commander deems it necessary to do a full-on scan of every bone in your body."

"I trust your judgment, doc. Shower up, flyboy; get us to Illium."

Dismounting the table he gave a mocking salute in return to Shepard's orders, "Aye, aye," he replied comically, thinking that perhaps if he didn't acknowledge the doctor's slip, it wouldn't come up again. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that it would eventually become a conversational piece while Shepardd was in the doctor's care. Chakwas was all for that kind of thing.

Jeff left the med bay before Shepard could have the chance to change her mind and took the elevator back up to the second deck. Stepping around the galaxy map, he briefly greeted the crew that welcomed him back and made his way to the bow of the ship where he sank back into the comfort of his chair with a content sigh. For a few minutes, the helmsman relished in comfort of returning to the one place in the galaxy he truly belonged, and then pulled himself up and reached for the controls.

"You're probably going to have to help me stabilize her, EDI," he cautioned, back to business as usual.

Well, mostly. There was still some teasing in order about her near-human tone. Keeping good on that promise, he looked over to the blue orb wearing a sly grin.

"Oh, and, by the way. I missed you too."

Jeff ran his fingers along the familiar dash of the _Normandy_'s controls. Damaged as she was, the ship obeyed every command with a fluid grace that the collector's ship had sorely missed. The _Normandy_ had always been a reliable and faithful to his command but he attributed some credit to EDI for having the ship far more stabilized than he had expected to find it.

EDI's orb flickered into sight when Joker took his rightful place back at his perch. "Yes, Jeff. I am already performing the necessary checks and analyzing any damage. Luckily nothing critical was hit. We will station on Illium to pick up the rest of the crew and work on needed repairs." She did not take too long of a pause after his shameless fun. "It _is_ good to see that you are unharmed. It was, however, nice to operate without you questioning my every move."

It was a hopeless excuse; he hadn't hounded her over that kind of stuff since before the first Collector attack. And plus, she came close to the human version of having a break down. Being the ship itself, she could feel everything that was going on around her.

"Oh, so that's what you sounded so grateful when we showed up and saved your ass. You were enjoying the freedom!" he scolded, and then laughed at EDI's bid to deflect his teasing. He let her off easy as he returned focus to the task in front of him. "I'll give you credit for trying. Excuses don't come naturally for you." He leaned up and tapped on a far display, skimming the read out and nodding amiably at the condition of the thrusters.

EDI said that everything critical was in fair shape, but it was habitual and necessary for him to check behind her, although it wasn't as much of a personal jab as it used to be. For that matter, he was only checking the bare essentials needed to get him from point A To point B, everything else he took her word for. He moved on to navigation next, and followed that up with a few more system checks. Once he was satisfied, he sat back into his seat and slowly turned the ship, then pressed her forward to Illium after letting EDI set the course.

EDI retorted, "I am learning more and more from you each day, Jeff. I still cannot determine if this is a good or bad thing."

* * *

Grunt not-so appreciatively considered Jack's suggestion as he glowered at the seeker, reaching out to try and strike it down even with the consideration that it could be Mordin's experiment, or pet, or whatever the old guy wanted to view it as.

"If it's his we should make him come get it. I have to stay out here until the cargo is repaired. I don't want this thing buzzing around me," the krogran rumbled as his next strike was predictably avoided.

The tiny seeker landed on Jack's head before she responded. She jerked around and started sweeping it off vivaciously, a scowl drawn deep on her features. "Yeah, tell me about it." She activated her comm and called for the salarian. "Hey, Mordin, get your ass down here and get rid of this seeker."

Unlike the pilot, Mordin had yet to make it back up to the second deck yet and paused when Jack voice snarled over his Comm. He straightened and curiously cocked his head. "Seeker? Hm. Could be problematic."

The seeker should have been safely contained within his lab, but perhaps something had fallen during the attack and shattered the container, setting the little pest free to explore the _Normandy_. That did not install confidence in him for what _else_ may have been broken, shattered, spilled, and released in the lab. All of this ran through his mind at a much faster rate than the elevator that finally opened its doors to release him into engineering.

Quietly, the scientist strode onto the scene, a glass he had borrowed from the mess hall clutched in one of his hands. He paused in his stride and angled his head around with an occasional blink as he waited for movement to tell him where the little bugger was. "Ah," he chimed casually when it landed on Tali's work station.

One slow and careful scoop later he had it contained in the crystal container, a hand over the top trapping it within.

"How the hell can an old salarian catch that and we can't?" Grunt grudgingly pressed Jack.

"Patience. It will come in time," Mordin assured the young krogan soothingly, and then lifted the contained seeker up to his eye line to study it, curious as to rather or not this was a new specimen or, indeed, an escapee.

"Patience?" Jack barked. "Maybe if the stupid thing wasn't resting on the drive core, I wouldn't have attacked it in the first place." She crossed her arms in resentment; yeah, bugs were attracted to the lights—and the drive core was the brightest thing on the ship—but after they were just attacked, she gained a right to jump at the opportunity to rid of it.

"Attacked?" Mordin quizzed, lowering the cup and looking to Jack inquisitively before giving an understanding nod half a second later, the by-product of a hyper-active salarian mind. "Acceptable under circumstances. Wasted effort though. Seekers have short life spans, too short for testing. Had to … strengthen this specimen for study. Designed to have chemical weakness only, as a fail-safe."

Grunt snorted indignantly and eased his shotgun back into place on his back, since the attack was no longer taking place; but it was incredibly tempting to take a shot at Mordin. "We noticed."

Mordin clasped his fingers around the cup and dismissed himself with a nod to both of them, "I have a lab to clean." He drew a quick breath in such a sharp fashion that it sounded almost like a pained noise, "Expecting many broken vials. Should advise crew to avoid for a few days."

"No kidding," Jack said. "If you're going to make the dangerous bugger ten times stronger than it usually is, keep it under better check, will you?" Grumpily, she headed back down the stairs to her dark hidey-hole (while giving a lazy wave to her krogan comrade), hoping that nothing had thrown around too badly in the midst of the attack.

The scientist and the keeper were soon out of their midst. Mordin boarded the elevator and made his way up to the second deck to do just as he said, and went to tend to the lab.

* * *

After watching Joker saunter away, Shepard turned her head to the side, still flat on her stomach, and looked up at Chakwas with innocent curiosity, completely ignoring the fact that she had just been mercilessly stabbed with a needle containing whatever magic ingredient patched people up. Shepard didn't know, she was an engineer.

She couldn't hold back a goofy grin. "He checks up on me?" The idea sounded preposterous; all he had to do was hear it from the other crew members a few hours or so after she got out of the medical bay. It spread around eventually, just small chatter used to prompt other conversations at the Mess table. Unless of course he preferred to hear it right away, just in case.

The thought amused her more than it should have. She felt the good doctor slightly lift her body up so she could pull off the tank top—easier access to her back. Her muscles clenched at the pain but she had to comply.

Chakwas gave her a pat on the head soothingly. "Don't you worry about that." Hell, she was waiting for Shepard to go bother him about it herself. Funnier results, she'd imagine.

"How often?" she pressed.

The older of the two women held her omni-tool above Shepard's bare back and let the hum ease the pain of the bones. Shepard found herself burying her face into her arms from the relief. When she heard a loud, fast stretch noise, she peeked up and saw that Chakwas was readying the heavy duty, waterproof wrap that would keep her from bending her torso in any strange places. It meant that she'd be out of commission for at least a day or two (so short thanks to her add-ons from Lazarus).

"Try to lift yourself up now that the pain has ebbed partially away," she instructed. Shepard did as told, feeling numb but glad for that fact, and held her body up so she could be wrapped up tightly. Unfortunately for the commander, Chakwas ever-so nonchalantly ignored her questioning.

She'd ask Joker later.

Once secure, they both heard a knock on the outside of the door. It was Tali, requesting entrance. Shepard looked up at Chakwas and waved slightly in admittance. The quarian ventured in and sat on the bed across from Shepard.

"How are you doing? I hope I'm not intruding."

"No, of course not. I'm probably going to fall asleep as soon as the doc is done doing her thing, though. Wont be much of a good conversation." And it looked like Chakwas didn't have much more to do. "I assume that I have to let it heal pretty naturally. Or as natural as my body can get." She snuggled against the pillow that the doctor handed to her after cutting off the wrap. Almost immediately, she clocked out and gave no other response.

Tali put a three-fingered hand on her wide hip. "Well, that was faster than I thought. I only came down to check on her, anyway."

"I assume she was a busy girl today. She maintained a mostly in-tact body, though, so we should let her sleep until we dock on Illium."

Of course, it'd be a challenge to _get_ the commander off of the _Normandy_; or at least, she'd be terrified to go. But she would, because she's Commander Shepard and she wanted to go greet her crew and help restock with things. Simple as that.

* * *

On the way to Illium, most of the crew did what they could do: fix up little things, such as Tali in engineering, Legion with a few inside repairs, and the core crew just organizing the items that may have fallen or gotten disoriented. As they were in rather deep space still, the trip itself took a good few hours.

Shepard had gotten her bit of sleep and woke up groggy; her first objective was to get a few pills from Chakwas and hobble up to her cabin for a shower.

She would have gone on Illium armor-less and dressed in casual-wear, but after realizing how it had saved her during the capture, she opted with it. Of course she had back-up armor, same colors and whatnot, but different sets of plating. Quickly assembling them and wiping the blood off of her guns, she donned her new armor carefully in mind of her wrapped back.

Her first order of business was to go around the ship to make sure everyone was doing alright. There weren't any vital injuries, barely small ones, so she found herself back in the cockpit.

"ETA for Illium, Mr. Moreau?"

The hours that passed were uneventful, and Jeff could not have been any happier. His quota of danger had been filled for the day. It was almost bizarre how things had fallen back in order so quickly. Everyone was right back to doing their own thing; Tali monitoring her station on the engineering deck, Jack lurking in her murky sanctuary below, Garrus calibrating, Legion—supposedly—doing repairs, Mordin cleaning the lab. The only unusual thing about the trip was Grunt pacing the corridor outside the engineering deck since the port had been mauled by the attack.

It was the one time in his life that a slightly irate krogan was the relaxing part of his day. Nonetheless, routine was back for the most part. Soon they would even have their shore part back to fill in the voids around the ship. Things would go back to normal, meaning he could just fly everyone into situations like the one he'd been in today rather than participating in them himself. The grim adventure had worn him out and as soon as they landed in Illium he planned to get that shower he had been longing for and slip into the crew's quarters to sleep for the rest of the day. What good was a pilot with the ship grounded, anyway? Just thinking about it made his eyelids feel heavy; it took a hand reaching up to rub at them to coax himself to stay awake until they docked.

Jeff turned his head at the soft echoing patter of armored footsteps behind him, identifying Shepard by the sound before she had even spoken. "About forty-five minutes," he replied, adjusting his chair to swivel around and face her so that he didn't have to give himself a crick in the neck just to hold a conversation.

Her smile faltered at the time. "Forty-five? That means I could have gotten more sleep. After a while I kept waking up to toss and turn, as best as I could, anyway, because I was afraid everyone would leave without me." Well, that was phrased a little insecurely; she honestly didn't mean for it to sound that way. "I mean, of course I'd like to be at front of the repairs. I'm missing Miranda right about now too, could use the hug."

Jeff arched a brow in silent question as Shepard confessed to longing for Miranda's company. This vaguely had his interest for a moment as his mind went in a completely different direction (namely, to the gutter). That was, until the limit of a hug was mentioned and he gave up the idea with slight disappointment.

Shepard put a hand up to her face to cup around her mouth as if telling a secret, but she spoke in a normal voice. "Don't tell anyone, but I swear she gives the best comfort hugs." She dropped the hand. "When a personal thing happened back with me a few months ago, it had been after the Orianna incident. She decided to listen to me embarrassingly gush my heart out to her since she did the same. Encircled her arms around me, I thought she'd be as stiff as a scared deer or somethin'."

Leaving his horse-play behind, he drew his head back to watch and listen as Shepard discretely gave away Miranda's apparent talent for consoling a weary heart. He would have never guessed it without her informing him; the XO had always struck him as a bit of a hard ass. He didn't allow himself to show it but there was some momentary curiosity and—dare he say—_concern_ about what it had been that sent Shepard seeking the other woman's comfort. It was pointless, though; Miranda had clearly tended to what ever it was.

"Ah, that sounded better before you told me that."

Shepard narrowed her eyes, purely and simply amused. "Only in your dreams, flyboy," she teased silkily. Miranda was merely her soul sister, so to say, as well as her female quarian friend. Even the males were genuinely behind her back, and she knew it wasn't just because she could kick all of their asses if she had to.

Despite all the hounding she got in N7 military training about not getting to close to your squad, she deemed it necessary. Play along with the drill instructor and then break off to use her own methods. Look how that turned out—a Spectre and savior of humanity.

Getting close with the crew turned out a little better than the instructor thought, eh?

She put arms behind her back and connected them with her hands, looking down at the pilot with a hint of bemused mirth in her expression. "It was smart of Miranda to think of talking to Liara. Chakwas says she took some of the crew down there, too. Maybe Liara'll be more apt to come on board again?" The commander was kidding, because everybody knew that the asari was clearly preoccupied with hunting down the Shadow Broker.

Although he knew her suggestion of Liara rejoining them was a joke, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to go with a running gag she had created about his playing the part of the very criminal Liara was scouring the galaxy for. "Nah, she'll keep politely refusing you. I just gave her a false lead to chase. That'll keep her busy," he smirked and assured with a purposefully dark tone.

Dropping out of her small talk, she said, "Uh-huh. Or I could just go ahead and give her your location while you're restin' up. Doubt she knows your _true_ identity yet." A bit more softly, she said in reference to his checks, "If you'd like, instead of checkin' in with the doc, I'll just venture straight here first to tell you how I'm faring."

The smirk drained from his faced with a sigh when she more delicately approached the subject he had predicted would come after Chakwas had let it slip. "-and there's that." He groaned and repositioned himself in his seat before explaining forwardly, "Look, I just like to stay updated about what's up on the ship. You're kind of an important part of this whole thing, so that means I like to stay updated about you too."

"I see." Instead of pressing further on the check-ups, because she'd do the same in his position, she dropped it and spared him of her commanding 'let's find out more about this' normality. "Well, get some rest anyway, will you? I know you've probably fallen asleep tons of times while flying the ship, but I'd rather you not fly us straight into a relay on accident." She had the idea that he was already going to, but she felt the need to press it anyway.

"I would not let that happen, Commander," EDI broke in.

"It was a joke, EDI. I know."

"Ah." Damned jokes, how do they work?

He dodged a bullet in having to come up with any further explanation about his checks to the med bay; subconsciously, he allowed himself to relax at this, finding it a uncomfortable to talk about it for some reason.

"You'll get it one day EDI. Just keep trying," he assured the AI comfortingly before turning back to Shepard and addressing her concerns. "Don't worry about me, Commander. I plan to hibernate through the repairs. It's going to be a very long time before I step foot out of this ship again … or so I hope."

Shepard nodded complacently upon hearing Joker's ideals for the next long hours, or however long they would need to stay. "Yeah, lucky you."

A soft beep echoed behind him and made Jeff turn in his chair to inspect the cause; nothing big, just the flight path needing some minor adjustment.

"Gotta take care of this," he excused himself from their conversation and urged the chair to rotate back to its normal position. All of his concentration went to piloting the Normandy after that, tapping, swiping, and watching the holos for readings.

When he had to dismiss himself, she understood and went to the empty armory, Jacob's station, to polish up and reload her guns appropriately. It was a slow and affectionate process, and she silently congratulated the weapons on saving both hers and Joker's asses today.

* * *

Illium and all its mainstream glory came into view within Jeff's given ETA. After getting clearance from the world below, he maneuvered the wounded ship into place at the port and secured her safely to the dock. Informing EDI to let the on-board crew members know that they had arrived, he took it upon himself to hail the shore party. "Anyone miss me?"

"Joker," Jacob acknowledged, standing from the seat he had taken and pressing a finger to his ear to better hear the pilot on the other end. "Good to hear from you." He nodded curtly in spite of the fact that it could not be seen over the comm. "How's Shepard?"

"Beaten up, but she's up and around, so she'll be okay. Chakwas wants her to take a day or two to rest, so if everyone could hold off on the end-of-the-galaxy thing for a little while, that'd be great."

"Logged. We have reached Illium. Standing by for repairs and leave," EDI reported.

The commander jerked her head up at the sound of EDI's voice over the ship's intercom and equipped herself quickly with all of her weapons; first, she switched out the particle beam for the Cain, feeling specifically uneasy and cautious, with good reason. She considered ordering Grunt and Jack to meet her outside on the docking bay, as those two were the least-occupied with fixing the ship, but decided against it. It was late afternoon, there were people stirring like it was Vegas, and Liara's office wasn't too far.

Her lips pursed at Joker's description of her condition. Yeah, so she couldn't really bend over or twist around. She could still crouch behind cover if she had to.

"Have fun, Commander," Jeff commented freely in Shepard's direction when he heard her briskly making way for the open airlock, where sunlight invaded and highlighted the structural damage the Collectors had done by prying the entrance open. He winced when he noticed. It could be easily fixed, but it almost physically hurt him when the _Normandy_ suffered abuse like that.

Holding up a hand to shield the sun, Shepard loosely danced a few fingers over the hand cannon on her hip and hiked to the safe haven that was Liara's office. Faces all around her were operating without any hostility, so she was eased a bit and felt comforted in the friendly atmosphere. That's when she decided that at some point, they'd have some sort of happy get-together on the _Normandy_. She had a feeling they all needed that time to get a bit loose and laugh along with one another.

After disengaging all the systems that did not need to be kept online in order to keep the ship a hospitable living environment for the crew, Jeff breathed easy and forced himself from the comfort of his chair. "Keep an eye on things for me, EDI," he ordered with a spared smile to the AI's station, and then slowly began to hobble his way up the deck, avoiding crewmen who were scrambling to get out and enjoy the fresh air. Internally, he wanted to warn them against approaching any isolated vending machines but decided against spreading his paranoia to the rest of the crew a second later.

"I always do, Jeff." Being the ship, she was glad to see that Joker went for the crew quarters. She did not want him overstressed; despite the funny way he tried to get a rise out of her (and admittedly, succeeded a few—just a few—times), she still cared for his health and safety, just as she would for the rest of her beloved crew. But because the pilot was her fly-buddy, their friendship(?) was stronger.

He slumped tiredly against the wall of the elevator after requesting decent into the crew's quarters, which proved to be mostly empty. Everyone was either enjoying a little freedom away from the ship, buy toiling away at their stations, or working on repairs. He didn't mind the isolation too much, since he finally got that shower he had been thinking about ever since leaving the collector ship.

By the time Shepard was receiving her warm welcome into Liara's office he had gotten a clean change of clothes and crawled underneath the covers of the bed assigned to him. The Normandy as a whole was his sanctuary, the cockpit being the epitome of that ideal, but right now he could not have found a more inviting place than right there between the sheets. Much like Shepard had in the med bay, Jeff gave in to sleep with hardly any fight at all after his head hit the pillow.

The XO was literally relieved when Liara's doors hissed open with the use of hydraulics. Miranda and Samara stood up and approached her, but didn't flood her to completely smolder her to death.

She held out an arm to each of them and put the appendages around their shoulders, both half-hugs of appreciation. "Glad to see you're all holding up," she said to both the ladies, Thane, Jacob, and Liara. "Not that I expected anything less."

"You had us worried, Shepard," Samara explained calmly, icy blue eyes hinting with thankful warmth.

The commander made a move to shrug, but it was too difficult with her thick back-wrap and arms tangled with the squaddies. "Eh, next time we go to a fuel port, we do stealth system checks."

Miranda spared a laugh. "Of course."

Jacob stood as audience to the girls' regrouping and could not stop a thin restricted smile from crossing his lips that grew at Shepard's new rule about fuel depots. He crossed the asari's office to join the crew, but did not partake in the hugging. Rather, he waited until the Justicar and XO were untangled from her arms and offer a hand to her instead, which Shepard took, "That, or start treating it like a mission as opposed to a reprieve. Never a dull moment on your crew, Shepard."

Thane's textured voice welcomed from near by, as he had been sitting close to the door while waiting for _Normandy_'s return. "I am glad to see you safely back. Joker sounded to be in good health as well," he observed with a touch of admiration in his garbled tone. He knew that it could not have been easy to ensure both his and her own safety by herself, his handicap unfortunately complicating the task. "You never fail to impress."

Shepard released hold on the duo and faced the rest of the squad, arms up defensively, as if to force away the compliments thrown into her direction. Smiling, she said, "Alright, alright, enough of that. Thank you Thane, Jacob. I know we're all glad to see each other without any extensive damage, but …"

The second-in command raised an eyebrow. "Either you've got good news that has us following more suicidal orders, or bad news that will inevitably lead to some kind of destruction."

"On the contrary," she started, gladly opposing Miranda's claims with great enthusiasm (not very often did she make a mistake!), "I've salvaged some tech on Joker's suggestion from the ship. It may have been hell breaking free, being on that thing, but from all the data we may have received, we can encrypt the hell out of it—maybe even rewrite it into a virus to infect the Reapers. I don't know how long that would take to create, its power, or if it'll work, but it's the best we've got so far, aside from the obvious forming of alliances between races and armies."

"Hmm," Miranda murmured, pleasantly surprised. "I see. That's a lot better than the news I'd been fabricating in my head for the past however long we've been waiting."

"Her worry was loudly portrayed by her steady heels," Samara commented.

Shepard sent a smirk in Miranda's direction, then carefully meandered up to Liara's desk. Deciding to stand, as that would put less stress on her, she gripped the edge of the desk and leaned over slightly. "We're going to need your help."

"My help? But Shepard, I told you that I cannot-"

The commander shook her head. "Not with fighting. We've got fighters. I need a favor, Liara. If I had to choose an information broker, I'd go for you over the Illusive Man any day." The young asari nodded carefully and relaxed a little in her seat, now ready to hear what Shepard was getting at. "To get the potential virus on the countless Reapers, we're going to need something like a transmitter. That's something we can create, but we'd need to find out how. The galaxy is a big place, and we now know that they're hiding in the very edges of dark space. If we could lead them out and find an area to relay the virus' signal, it might infect the ship." She paused. "You know your way around. If you could find a location such as that …"

"A virus?" Jacob asked in surprise. In theory it made sense, being that the reapers were sentient ships but he could only imagine what kind of firewalls they possessed and, more to the point, the caliber of a virus that had the capability to bring down such powerful target.

Analytically, both Thane and Jacob stood by in silence as they listened to the exchange between Shepard and her old friend, things falling into place. They still had much to do before their strike against the menacing fleet was even ready to be considered, but Shepard was right, they had something here. An actual tool to be used in their war and they were going to need all the help in the galaxy that they could get.

Liara nodded in confirmation. "I have been in the deeper parts of the galaxy, but it would take an extensive search to find something that you are speaking of. Do you mean to say that you would … plant the transmitter?"

"Somewhere near a Mass Relay. Unless they're all conveniently docked at the galaxy's largest refueling station, I don't think we can infiltrate their ships one by one to hack their systems."

"For you, Shepard, I will do my best," she promised with a nod.

"Thanks. You're really helping to secure the fate of every living being, right? That's a big deal; I'll make sure to put your name in a big headline for the Nos Astra news."

The asari crossed her arms gently over her stomach, leaning back against the chair, skylight from the sunset creeping over her curvy body. She raised a drawn eyebrow and said, "You do realize that what you said is most pressuring, yes? But I will work to the best of my abilities. It would be such a waste to see such a lovely crew," she gestured to Thane, Jacob, and Miranda, "along with the rest of the organics, suffer from such a horrendous fate."

Shepard pointed to her old crew mate. "You got it. Now, I don't want to bother you much longer. I'm sure my pesky crew has already taken up a lot of your time."

"Information handling is a busy business, Shepard, but I can still make time for those important to me."

That was a relief to hear; the slightly-bitter tone she had used in their first encounter back from the dead was less than warm. The commander smiled softly and scoot over to give Liara a goodbye hug.

The meeting was drawn to an end, their deal with the information broker met, and hug goodbye exchanged between the old friends. It would be only under Shepard's lead that the shore party would begin their venture back to the spot where the weakened _Normandy_ was resting.

Jacob would wait until they had left the confines of Liara's office before he suggested, "As soon as the SR-2 is fixed and back in full working order we should let EDI and Joker take a look at that tech you salvaged." He lifted his hand to gesture to her Omni-tool where he presumed the data was stored on short notice, but really, he could think of no safer place for it than so close to the commander. "We need to figure out how to get this virus of yours working and how to make a transmitter as quickly as we can while Liara handles scoping out a battlefield for us."

"EDI _and_ Joker?" Thane asked sedately. With no disrespect meant to the pilot, he did not really consider Joker as the type who commonly analyzed encryption programs such as the one Shepard spoke of. That seemed more suited to the AI than a pilot—or any organic life form for that matter.

"I know it's not his normal trade, but Shepard said she took the program under Joker's suggestion. So, he must have seen something in it. Consider that with his knowledge of star-ships, which a Reaper technically is, and he might be pretty useful in figuring out how to convert our data into an even more effective virus once EDI does the hard logic."

Shepard listened to the males' suggestions and nodded curtly. "Of course. Joker's probably resting up for the day, or at least until later." As it was only sunset, she wondered if he'd be waking up in the middle of the night to do his job, or crash all the way till tomorrow morning. Either was fine.

Thane chewed on this for a moment before nodding once in accession. "Yes. I suppose you are right."

"But I'll definitely forward the data to EDI and put it on our ship's computer after she does the necessary runs. She's a lot more careful with scanning now, for obvious purposes." But nobody saw the IFF incident coming, and nobody blamed the poor AI for it.

She brought up her omni-tool and fiddled with it. "I'd rather get us a copy of it too, for back-up purposes. Grabbing something like this was a one-time deal, unless the Reapers have themselves plenty 'more agents with them. I still don't know why anybody would want to work for those … those …" She grit her teeth.

Miranda cut in, "Ah, you weren't here for Liara's discussion about them. It appears that they've been indoctrinated, or controlled against their will at the very least. It seems most likely. Very akin to Saren's case."

Shepard's fists clenched and unclenched, striding along the market area of the clean space city. She noticed a few crew members from the _Normandy_ buying the supplies they needed to make repairs. EDI must have notified them of what to get. "At least they aren't rogue Spectres like Saren was. They have some sort of strength, but they definitely aren't Saren." She paused. "Unless the Reapers trigger the very same control Sovereign used after he killed himself." A sigh. Free from life yet still controlled. She pitied that fact, but nothing else about the turian. "Then we'll have ourselves a problem."

Jacob walked in pace with the group while Miranda took it upon herself to identify their enemies for Shepard when she grappled for a proper way to address them. Her concerns surprised him a little. He had heard the story of Saren's demise time and time again but it had not crossed his mind to be weary of the prospect of death not entirely solving their problem until now. It was a grim possibility, and one they could not dismiss since there was an entire fleet of reapers behind their collection of indoctrinated puppets. Sparking life back into a few dead bodies hardly sounded like a task at all in those circumstances.

"In the mean time," she started in front of the worked-on ___Normandy_, "you are encouraged to get back in the groove and help get the SR-2 back to her paces. I'll be discussing the virus with EDI if anybody needs me. Stay away from secluded areas unless you're performing the buddy-system," she added on as a joke. Miranda laughed, Samara smiled, and both women ascended to the airlock.

Bemused like the women before him by the new need to watch everyone's backs even during down time, Jacob filed into the SR-2 behind them, with Thane bringing up the back until they all branched out to their respective places aboard the _Normandy_. A new sense of hope was inhaled into the ship by the promise of something to arm themselves with.

Her escort mission complete, Shepard went to do what she had said: go to EDI.

"EDI, are you too busy with internal repairs?" she asked, sliding into Joker's chair easily. Never in her life did she think that she'd like the way it was slanted back light that; it did wonders of comfort for her own wounded body. Definitely less stress. And unlike Miranda, she wasn't bothered by the least that this was 'Joker's chair, off limits.'

"Fortunately, there were little to none internal repairs to be done. What is it that you need?"

She held up her omni-tool to the holo-slide she recognized as an input for data transfers. Copying the data, she held up the orange material around her arm and let it transfer. "Take a look at this. I know you'd be able to figure out how to rewrite this into a virus; do you see anything else odd?"

The AI took a few moments to analyze what had been sent. "This is old Prothean data. You must have found this on the other craft." Slightly surprised, she continued, "I do not see why it is quite so worth keeping, however."

"Then save that part for Joker. All I need you to do is tell me if we've got something here. I plan to use a transmitter to send the signal and bounce off the Mass Relay, or something of the sorts. I don't see how we can touch the Reapers without that. They'll be weakened, I'm sure, but we'll still have one hell of a fight."

"Ah. There appears to be something that I can use to turn this incredibly lethal. It is difficult to put in terms you will understand."

Shepard shook her head. "It's alright, just do your thing."

"I feel gratuitous towards your trust, Shepard."

The commander smiled. "And I feel gratuitous towards the fact that you've saved our asses more times than I can count. It's a mutual thing here, EDI." She put down her omni-tool and let it phase away, contemplating hers and the ship's next move when she leaned back fully against the chair in well-deserved and determined comfort.


End file.
